#the money is the hard part. its like my brain stops processing things after i shut down and ihave to check so many times that i got it right

[oscill4te]

bruh i came into work so ready to cashier I was all pumped up and happy n chatty. 4 hours later my brain completely shuts down and turns to mush. my social battery is 💀...

#im always like oh. i could cashier again full time #jesus christ. no i cant. I mean I can. but at some point I fall apart and cant focus and cant even count money #i dissociated really bad and took a long time to count peoples money and was speaking in a slurred manner #while beforehand i was all perky and alert. why does that happen #luckily after lunch im going back to my dpt.. thx god #the money is the hard part. its like my brain stops processing things after i shut down and ihave to check so many times that i got it right #its easy to stock when you are feeling very spacey. but to make convo or count money.... no

[sensitive-neuvi-enthusiast]

Teach My Mouth a Lesson

Toji x fem!reader

Synopsis: You've caught the interest of your friend's sleazy dad. And he's caught yours.

Content: age gap (reader is mid 20s, toji is late 40s), self pleasure(toji), he's kinda mean, voyeuristic scene (reader watches toji)

Wc: 1.5k

Part Two

A cold iced coffee sat nestled in your hand, pulling it to your lips as you listened to your best friend complain. About her father no less. It was usually the same. "He only calls after I beg him to." And, "Can you believe he missed my birthday again?" You didn't really have room to comment, not having the best relationship with your own father. Plus it wasn't really new information, he was barely in her life as it was. "Doesn't he usually miss your birthday?" You commented and she only pouted. "I thought it'd be different this time." With a sigh, she fiddles with her drink before her eyes widen. "Let's go shopping!"

"Again?" You shook your head, bringing the cold, foamy liquid to your lips. It's not like you really had a say, her hands already wrapping around your arm as she tugged you, almost making you drop your coffee.

You spent the day in store after store, watching as she tried half the clothes on and only buying a handful. You got some cute things too but ultimately were a little more frugal with your money than she was. She was always spending whatever she made as soon as her paycheck was deposited. By the time you'd finished, the sun was setting and she was dragging you, yet again, to a bar. It's not that you were opposed to drinking, it just didn't take much to make you tipsy let alone full-on drunk. Which is exactly what happened.

Both your friend and you, hailing a cab as your combined giggles filled the chilly air. She managed to clumsily tell the driver her address before you two sang, off key, some random song that happened to be stuck in your head.

The cab came to an abrupt stop, the driver giving a glare to both of you before she randomly threw a few twenties at him as you fumbled out of the car. Giggling and bumping into each other as she barely managed to get her keys, it took four tries before she finally slotted it inside the lock. "Shhhh," she giggled. "I don't know if-hicc-my Dad's home." Your alcohol filled brain scoffed at the carefulness. "What's he gonna do?" You giggled, and she joined before she excused herself to the bathroom. You rested yourself against the kitchen counter, head hanging backwards as you watched the ceiling spin.

"The fuck are you?"

A deep voice swarmed into your ears, making you jump as you leaned your head forward. A tall, beefy man stood in front of you. Jet black hair that went in all sorts of directions. But that's not what you noticed first, no. He was shirtless. Thick muscles lined his torso, arms, and chest. Fuck, he was built. He snapped in front of your face, "Hello? Ya deaf? Who the fuck are you?" You swallowed the lump that'd formed in your throat as you tried to talk. Failing miserably. Your brain couldn't even process that this was more than likely your friend's dad. "The girl who lives here…her friend."

"That so?" He clicked his tongue as he ran a hand down his stubbled chin. "Told her not to bring loud ass troublemakers in here."

"Excuse me?" You answered, annoyance making its way into your voice. Standing now, your hands balled at your sides, trying your best to be intimidating. Kind of hard when the man you're trying to scare has at least a whole foot, maybe more, on you. "My house, my rules. Got a problem?" He sneered, looking down his nose at you. In your inebriated state, it only made you more annoyed. "Yeah actually. You can't talk to me like that. You don't know me." He scoffed, "Scuse me Princess, didn't mean to insult the invisible crown you put on that pretty little head of yours."

Your eyes widened, stomach filling with a warmth as it proceeded to do somersaults. What the fuck? Your body was betraying you but you weren't about to let this dick know that.

"Whatever," you responded back, crossing your arms. A smirk played its way onto his lips. You didn't like the look of that. "She come home with ya?" He walked into the kitchen, switching on the light and illuminating the area. Now you could truly see every dip and curve, bump of his muscle. Fuck, who sculpted him? The clink of a beer bottle being pulled from the fridge pulled you from your daze. "Bathroom. She's in the bathroom." He hummed, tipping his head back as he popped the lid off with his hand. His throat bobbed, a few drops of the liquor ran down his chin. But he made no attempts to wipe it off.

"Ya sure you're her friend? Feel like I woulda remembered a laugh that obnoxious."

And there he went again, he truly was as much of an asshole as your friend said. "Like you'd know, you're barely home. A real deadbeat." You crossed your arms, a sick angry feeling filling your gut. He didn't say anything, the silence was deafening until you heard heavy footsteps. Toji moved through the kitchen and stopped just in front of you. His fingers grasp your chin, causing you to gasp as you look up at him like a deer in headlights. "Got a mouth on ya.." His rough thumb pressed against your bottom lip. "Someone should fix that."

A loud crash sounded from the bathroom and he pulled away. "I swear to God, if she broke her fucking neck." Toji sighed, craning his neck to get a better look at the bathroom door. Which in turn, gave you a better look at him. Heat was radiating off his skin, his enormous pecs were practically the only thing in your line of vision. Soon the bathroom door slammed open and you hadn't noticed till now, but he'd moved back to behind the counter. "Shit," your friend giggled. "Hope that didn't wake up my-" She paused, eyes slowly blinking as she assessed the situation. "Dad!" She screamed, rushing over to wrap her arms around his neck. "Can't believe you forgot my birthday," she pouted. Leaving her father to roll his eyes, pushing her off him. "Ya get enough during the year, you don't need a celebration." Your friend only pouted more as she crossed her arms. "S'not fair." Her bottom lip wobbled but Toji didn't buy any of it. "Not gonna work," he replied, taking another generous swig of his alcohol.

"Ugh, asshole." She turned on her feet, heading up the stairs. He shook his head, "Bitch." And he only received a finger in response. What a strange dynamic.

"Ya gonna go with her or stare holes into me for the rest of the night?"

You blinked, eyes coming back into focus. "Like I'd stare at you." You tried your best to sound annoyed, ignoring the lingering heat you felt in your stomach. Had he really grazed your lip with his thumb like that? The feeling was still there. He only hummed, dragging his eyes up and down your body. "Just fucking keep it down ya?" Toji finished off his beer before crushing it, tossing it into the trash and headed back upstairs. And you finally felt yourself breathe for the first time.

'What the fuck?'

You thought, trying to shake it out of your mind as you went upstairs too. Giving about a minute or two after her dad had left, you trudged up the stairs. Any alcohol that was in your system had subsided, leaving you a fuzzy mess. And you couldn't help but sigh when you entered your friend's room, where you found her passed out, face down in the bed. With heavy limbs, you pulled yourself to her bed and laid down. Tugging some of the blankets before falling asleep.

It was roughly 2am when you woke up, the heavy weight of your friend's leg on your stomach had triggered the urge to go to the bathroom.

With a huff, you moved her off and walked out of the room. Eyes halfway closed as you walked to the bathroom. Doing your business with a yawn, sight and hearing both a little muffled and blurry from just waking up. After finishing up, you open the door only for you to pause. Low grunts and moans made their way into your ears. Curiosity burned and you softly shut the door, tiptoeing towards where the noise was coming from; the living room.

Holy fuck.

You quickly covered your mouth to prevent your thoughts from escaping your mouth. There, on the couch, was Toji. Hand slicked with spit as he stroked up and down his thick cock. God, it was huge. How did he even walk around with that thing? You wondered. You couldn't tear your eyes away. His rough thumb pressed against his slit, smearing the beads of pre that formed there around the tip. Long, thick, veins ran up the length, pulsing each time he ran his hand over them. You should stop watching. This was private…and he was an asshole! You reminded yourself. But your pussy had other ideas. Already, you could feel yourself get wet watching as the scene unfolded.

His head rested on the back of the couch. Teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he fucked his fist. You pressed your thighs together, easing the growing ache.

"Ya just gonna watch, or are you gonna join me?"

A/N: There will be a part 2, promise♡

#jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #toji zenin #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x you

[backyard-birds]

Life Update/Apologies

Sorry for ghosting y'all, I have been burnt out

Back in June, almost my entire household, myself included, caught covid. I didn't feel up to doing anything but sleeping. After I recovered, I still had some brain fog, and even now it's hard to remember stuff (although I'm not sure if that's from Covid, ADHD, or just chronic pain in the Winter 🙃)

Life has honestly been non-stop since then. In July the family kitten got sick with what the vet thought was either cancer or FIP. Thankfully it turned out to be neither of those things but for a time all energy was devoted to making sure she didn't die.

Since then I quit my old job for a better, but more demanding job. I haven't had as much free time as a result, but as I adjust to the new rhythm that may change.

Also my computer finally kicked the bucket, so that was nice.

But I have a new computer now, with better processing power. I would like to return to this blog and post more pictures, and even open a redbubble store or something at some point (I did just buy an expensive computer with photo editing in mind so... gotta make that money back somehow :-:') (also not that anyone is obligated to, especially since its not like ive done anything here in half a year, but i do have tips available on this blog *cough*)

I will not be forcing myself to post twice a day, because I know that led to my burnout, at least in part. I will post what I want, when I can. I won't make any promises I can't keep, but at the very least, I will try to post something by New Years.

TL;DR: Life hit me like a truck. I'm still alive, and I'll be back.

#update #text post

[glitchdollmemoria]

very messy rant under the cut its true schizofreak hours

extremely extremely frustrating all of it. hate knowing when i come down ill look back and realize nothing i said makes sense enough. frustrating to keep getting distracted, confused, hate it. need to talk to doctor tomorrow but scared. dont know what will happen but at this rate ill lose function. something will happen eventually. half the reason i moved out was because i knew i wasnt safe to not have treatment and never would with my father. been a year now and i havent made good on that and i owe it to myself but its terrifying. already have so much to discuss with doctors, just one more thing, "problem patient" with ten thousand problems but its their job! its their fucking job to care. trying to be a good patient who quits drugs and gets sleep and tries and tries and tries and tries more but it doesnt fix things. and is it my fault? if pot made it worse is that my fault for needing it? should i have been stronger? dont know how long its been since cutting back or last time i relapsed because i cant process time right anymore. im disconnected from time. is that my fault? my back hurts very badly and imwondering if "that time" is coming early sending everything out of balance. shouldnt be for about a week. and im losing my train of thought again and i hate it. its so hard to care about effects of diagnosis when this all hurts so much and keeps happening more and more. i think "my brain is normal" then realize absolutely not. i found a community so sweet full of new friends and they dont mind me just typing in vc chat at times but what if when my brain gets scrambled this badly? feels easy to keep in contact but if i fuck it up?? i hope not. dont think theyre that cruel. its just scary. i want to be loved as i am, loved schizotypally, loved when my words give up and i can barely think, i want to be held and kissed on the head and allowed to let my guard down when i have to patch reality together. want it to just be normal. want to be allowed to exist as i am. broken apart and confused and fragile. need someone to look at me and think, "hes still so beautiful and sweet", need to be valued beyond profit and coherence and ability. and some part of me wants to stop pushing against this, to let me be confused, to let it wash over like water, ill feel better after but for now its ok except for outside forces. it devolves into peace, but then, "what about my job? what about money? what about being liked by friends?" the death and fear and isolation of unsupport is what kills me inside and makes symptoms WORSE. its so much.almost hope im this bad at appointment so doctor knows. need her to fucking believe me. and i need to be loved and i need to stop typing and just have a bath please

#venting

[minsyal]

The Fugitive (Finding Home), Pt. 1

Karl Heisenberg x Reader

Warnings: strong language, Resident Evil-esque violence and descriptions of gore, and dark/sexual themes

Summary: A once-in-a-lifetime trip turned dark. You're quickly exposed to the sinister and mysterious world of a cursed village under the control of dark leaders. How long will you last and will you ever return home in one piece?

Backpacking through Eastern Europe was not a top priority on your “to do” list. In fact, it was quite the opposite. Being one to preplan everything, you were completely caught off guard when your roommate sprung the idea of the trip out of the blue. You roommate, Jezebel Haine, was your first and only roommate from college onward. All legs, she was one of the stars of the track team but was most certainly not one of the brightest shining ones. She was considerably dim-witted, fanatical, and had a booming over-the-top personality that scared every potential boyfriend who had the disservice of meeting her. There were times, though, that she was rather endearing. Her childlike sense of self and emotional drivers consistently put her at a crossroads between what everyone else was doing and what she should be doing; she was, and always will be, a follower.

After four years of becoming “the bestest of friends,” you had a hard time imagining such a hard shift either into another roommate or living alone. Plus, her parents funded most everything she did and, in turn, funded the apartment the two of you shared.

“It’s an amazing opportunity!” She insisted, waving her hands in a simple manner as she rose from the condensed cushion of the leather-clad couch. “Think about it.” Gathering your hands in hers like a 20’s actress who had just met the man of her dreams, she pulled the bundle to her chest. “We frolic through the European countryside, it’s golden hour. My skin looks absolutely gorgeous… yours too, of course. The sun is just about to set, but alas!” She let out a dramatic gasp, removing one of her hands to cover her mouth. “It’s growing dark out!”

“That’s what happens when the sun sets.” You noted, causing her to drop the act for a moment only to immediately go back into character.

“We hear the crunching of leaves and twigs all around us as if something…” she drew close and lowered her voice to a whisper, “sinister is coming. Out of no where we’re ambushed! By what, I’m not sure. Then,” her eyes became glassy as she lay a delicate hand to her forehead, “two absolute studs… and I’m talking big bulging muscles, gorgeous trendy hair, captivating eyes… really everything a simple girl could ask for… seemingly drop from the sky! We’re saved!” She throws your hands into the air as if they’d fall like confetti. Drawing both her arms in, she sways back and forth in a waltz of one. “We’d be married by the next day! Hell, maybe we’d even end up as princesses.”

Oh, how utterly wrong she was.

“I told you this was a stupid idea.” You groaned, haughtily holding your chin up while feeling your spirits low. A few miles back, on an asphalt road that quickly turned to dirt, sat the dingy red rental truck with a blown out engine and a deflating tire. With no cell service and the last town being over 100 miles back, your only choice was to walk.

“Don’t blame me!” Jezebel stopped walking, feet falling flat to the ground as she stomped her foot in a childish manner. “I,” her lip quivered as all the anger held in her body dissipated, “I just wanted to have a fun time with you.” Big tears flowed from her eyes quickly after finishing her proclamation, leaving smearing black lines down her face from the eyeliner she insisted was necessary in the Romanian countryside. God, if her parents weren’t funding this trip, you’d throw a fit for your money back.

“Jess, just,” reaching backward, you fished a rag from your backpack, “don’t cry. That’s not going to make this better.” Sniffling, she accepted the rag and wiped her eyes, further smearing black all over her face. You couldn’t help but feel a shred of sympathy for her. “Let’s just keep going. No use in wasting daylight. I really don’t want to get caught out here in the dark.”

“Where are we supposed to go, then?”

“I’m sure the next town will have some sort of inn or hotel. At the very least, they’ll have directions to the nearest city.”

After another five miles of walking, the sun was beginning to set and no gorgeous studs were waiting to save you. The blazing yellow ball inched slowly beyond the horizon. Its warming rays that had kept the snow from freezing the two of you in the day crept down below the snow peaked mountains that were nestled in the distance. Shadows began dancing between the trees, sending the forest into a theater of silent performers. The dirt road that was once large enough for two cars was now only a walking path so slim that Jezebel had to follow on your heels. Every now and again you were reeled back by the piece of rope that she had attached to your backpack that was firmly gripped in her hand. She claimed it made her feel safer.

“You think those two hunks are going to come save us now?” You joked, attempting to make light of this dark situation.

“I wish.” She huffed, frustration evading her voice as exhaustion took center stage.

Flickering light caught your eye. Hues of yellow and red mingled together in the distance, the outlines of rooftops and smoke-filled chimneys littered the ground below. “I think that’s a village.”

Another mile of downhill travel was all it took to reach the place where the once distant flickering of torches and lanterns grew into the quiet streets of a cluttered settlement. There was no clear indication of movement once you stepped foot in the village; the only evidence of any life came in the form of fresh boot prints, livestock, and the ever-blazing lanterns. Jezebel was all to happy to release your makeshift leash from her fingers, trotting mindlessly by to examine the street corners and homes. Your eyes continued wandering up the rooftops, finally landing upon the eerie looming castle situated on the mountainside above.

From around the bend, you heard Jezebel screech.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You threw caution to the wind, quickly rounding the corner to scold her like a parent would to a misbehaving child. “You don’t know if these people are violent or not. We can’t just go parading ourselves into the town center.”

“I think they’re violent.” She mustered the shaky words. Her hands covered her eyes and the majority of her face as she backed away from whatever had caused her distress.

“What?” The unpleasant squelch of snow beneath your feet caused your attention to draw downward. Dark snow surrounded your boot, an unnatural red hue stained the pure white. Gaze moving upward, your chest restricted feeling as if it had crushed inward on itself. The putrid smell finally fell upon your nostrils as you backed away from the scene. Severed animal heads hung lazily above you, their tongues flopping from their opened mouths.

“I want to go home.” Jezebel sobbed, rasping her cries into her cupped hand. Shaking her head as if to knock this moment from her brain, her short-lived façade of curiosity gave way to her immediate feeling of impending dread.

“That’s what I’m trying to do right now, Jess. Just, calm down.”

A low grumble had you standing further on edge, if that was possible at this point. The sound was clear as day and was anything but human. You weren’t even sure a human could get to an octave so low without the help of technology. Eyes darting upward once more, a chill ran from your shoulders to your toes.

Hauntingly yellowed eyes lingered upon the two of you. The beast-like figure was silhouetted by the moonlight, outlined like a ghost. It looked to be a man, but also anything but a man in the same sense. Its mouth was parted, baring old rotted teeth that looked to have dried blood caked between its gums. Its hands were bloodied as well, small cuts were painted across its forearms only hidden by the rags that clung to its chest.

Before you could process the situation, Jezebel let out another yelp. In an instant, the beast lunged down from its perch, landing with a ground shaking thud nearly five feet before you. “No!” Jezebel’s open palm collided with the space between your shoulder blades as she pushed you toward the monster. The last thing you saw was her backpack falling to the ground as she began running toward one of the homes. You landed face-first in the snow, groaning as all the air in your lungs were forced out. The beast snarled, once again showing its teeth as it hunched down to your level. This was, most certainly, not the way you envisioned dying. Things like this weren’t supposed to exist; this is myth, this isn’t real. It all felt like bad dream gone worse that you couldn’t wake from.

“Pesky creatures, aren’t they?” A new voice called out as the horrendous sound of metal crushing bone and muscle slithered through your ears. The disgusting feeling of gore instantly trickled down your hands. “Please,” the voice continued, “feel free to thank me anytime.”

A moment later, the stranger let out a scoff with the squishy suction of whatever he had used to quiet the monster. The tap of a boot on your elbow finally prompted you to uncover your eyes. “Or don’t.”

“I,” you started, opening and closing your mouth multiple times unable to find the right words, “thank you.”

“Oh.” He tiled the stiff rim of his frayed hat back, exposing a pair of circular sunglasses perched upon his nose. “Foreigners, eh?”

“Yeah, um.” You gathered yourself, finally pushing up to stand on your feet. “We got lost.”

“And ended up here, no doubt.” A stifled chuckle left his lips as he tilted his hat back in place and swung whatever he used to kill the beast over his shoulder. “If I were you, I’d get the hell out of here.”

Without another word, the stranger sauntered off with a backward wave of his hand. “Oh, and have someone clean this mess up.”

“Y/n!” Jezebel’s shrill voice called as she returned with a rather confused villager. He held a shotgun with both of his hands, Jezebel shone a flashlight in your eyes.

“Are you okay?” The villager moved forward with extreme caution after peering around you dumbfoundedly seeing the crumpled body.

“I’m fine, no thanks to her.” You spat, anger swelling in your throat causing a particular acidity to your words.

“All of you! Inside this instant.” A matronly holler came from behind Jezebel and the villager. “You know Miranda’s protection only runs so far as we grow closer to this time.”

Who is Miranda and, more importantly, who was the man who saved you?

The home you were ushered into was on the outskirts of town. It was one of the larger estates given the fact that some people seemed to live in one-room shacks. Upon entering, you were greeted with the warm glow of yellow light trickling in from what looked to be a formal living room. The sweet aromas of honeyed tea wafted through the air, drawing further in as the woman led the three of you deeper into the home. What was worse? You pondered. Being killed by that beast or potentially being murdered by the inhabitants of this home? You couldn’t decide. Thus far, the two gave no indication of malice.

“Please, sit.” The woman pulled out two of the chairs at her table, the wood scratching against the floor. “I’ll fetch the tea.”

Jezebel was so brainless. She smiled at you as if she hadn’t just offered you up as a midnight snack. Surely there was no hamster running on that squeaky track that powered her.

“What was that thing?” You turned to the man who was now seated to your right. “The monster.”

The man ignored your question, instead grabbing a piece of rounded bread from the plate at the center of table. Slathering butter on it, he looked to you. “How’d you kill it?”

“I didn’t.” You frowned, recalling the mysterious man who saved your life without even dropping his name. The villager raised his brows and kicked his foot up on the table. He was waiting for more information. “Some man came out of nowhere. He had some hammer-like weapon.”

As soon as he processed the words, his foot fell from the table and he leaned forward, uncomfortably close. You could smell the distinguishable bite of alcohol percolate from his lips. “Did he wear glasses? A hat?”

“He did.” The words slowly drifted from your mouth. “Hair to about here.” You motioned to the halfway point of your neck.

“Adelina,” the man called, presumably to the woman who guided you inside. He got up quickly, rushing to the other room leaving you and Jezebel alone.

“What the hell is going on here?” You whispered in a harsh tone, leaning forward to get closer to her. “Is this not weird at all to you?”

“I think they’re nice people.” Jezebel responded at full volume without a second of thought.

“That’s coming from someone who tried to feed their supposed best friend to a monster.”

“I was buying us time to get help.”

“Help? I almost died!”

“But you didn’t.”

“When we get back to the U.S. I never want to speak to you again.” You seethed. How could she be this bad? You knew there were a few… a considerable amount of screws missing from Jezebel, but how in God’s green earth does she justify her actions at this point? The thought of it accompanied by her dazed and empty stare only fueled the fire of anger more.

“Dear,” the woman, who you now knew was Adelina, reentered the room accompanied by the man with a tray of cups and a kettle in her hands. She set a delicate china glass in front of you, softly filling it with a reddish colored liquid that she assured you was Celestial Seasonings, a tea imported from Africa. “I hear that you’ve met Lord Heisenberg.” Placing a hand over her heart, she gave a warm smile that only sent another wave of dread through your body. There was something so alluring about this woman, yet so sinister.

“Lord, who?”

Adelina stiffened, craning her neck to the side as she plastered a forced smile upon her lips once more. You had upset her, that much was obvious. “One of the four Lords that rule here alongside our dear Mother Miranda.” She explained, pushing the cup of tea closer to your body. Jezebel had already finished her first glass. Warily, you lifted the cup in your hand and allowed the warm water to heat your frozen body. An elongated finger pointed to the framed painting that hung to the wall. “Mother Miranda protects us here.”

Mother Miranda. You could only focus on the image of the woman silhouetted by six black wings and a halo outlining her head. Her eyes were indistinguishable behind the raven-like mask that clung to her face. Adorned in a black garb, she looked to be a holy figure in this town. But like Adelina, something just wasn’t right with Miranda.

The unsettling reverb of crickets and cicadas chirping grew louder and louder with each passing hour. You counted the seconds between waves of mass chorus; so far, it was roughly thirty seconds between each bleating scream of their nightly tune. You couldn’t sleep. Despite the somewhat comforting, but entirely unsettling welcome given by Adelina and Marion, you couldn’t help but feel like a caged animal in the tiny cupboard room they had given you. A curious thought tickled the back of your mind, willing you to remain as alert as possible after an exhausting day of hiking; where had they put Jezebel? Not that you particularly cared at this point. After the attack she had done a 180, dropping all suspicion of malice in this village. She simply flushed the pictures of hanging heads and wild beasts from her memory. You sometimes envied her lackadaisical memory accompanied by a fanatical view of the world. Living blissfully ignorant, especially in a situation like this, seemed to serve her best.

After a small dinner of fish that smelled of ammonia, of which you politely picked at, Adelina insisted the two of you stay the night. “The beasts will return!” She exclaimed, holding a firm hand over the intricately carved wood of the doorframe. “Early tomorrow we can arrange for a car to pick you up from the next town over.” Hushed murmurs climbing up from the cracked floors pulled you from your thought. The voices spoke in an incomprehensible argument.

“I’d quite like to keep...” the words faded in and out.

“No, no, no. Don’t be ridiculous...”

“What if....”

The floor spoke a soft squeak from beneath your feet as you shifted to get closer to the voices. Their conversation stopped, and you waited with bated breath for it to continue.

“We have to offer someone up tomorrow.” It was Adelina.

“I know, I know.” Marion sounded frustrated. “But you know Mother Miranda prefers only the purest. How are we supposed to know if either of them are-”?

The words faded once more as the two moved from room to room. Walking on the sides of your feet, you followed. Peeking around the corner, your eyes landed on Adelina and Marion illuminated by a flickering fire. They stood close to one another, keeping their tones low.

“Clearly, we offer the frumpy one. Take a look at her. There’s no doubt in my mind that she’s unexperienced.” Adelina snickered, taking a seat on the worn couch with her back to you. “She wouldn’t fit in here anyway.”

“The dumb one would get along nicely with our son.”

“I agree.”

A knock at the front door sent a shiver of adrenaline down your spine. Quickly scrambling to hide, you took in a deep breath as Marion passed by with his shotgun in hand. From the parted door, you could see the sun barely peeking over the horizon. Had it really been that long already?

“Are you sure she’s pure?” The new man stood in the doorway rushed past Marion, looking in the direction of the room they had put you in.

“I suppose we could check.” Adelina called, rising to join the others. “The both of them had that tea. They shouldn’t wake until the ceremony later today.”

“Is she in there?”

“Yes, the other one is upstairs.”

“Let’s check this one first.”

With heavy footsteps falling upon the rotting floorboards of the somewhat dilapidated home, you slunk further into the shadows of the room behind you. The glint of something metal caught your attention; a small handgun sat perfectly on a dresser as if set there intentionally for you to find. Holding your breath, you crept forward to it. You’d never shot a gun in your life, but you knew the basics... both hands, check for ammo, rack the slide, pull the trigger. At least, that’s what the movies told you.

“Out of bed so soon, are we?” The soft voice turned malevolent as Adelina appeared in the doorway of the room. “I wouldn’t use that if I were you.” She motioned to the gun that was aimed rather unskillfully for her chest.

“What the fuck is going on in this village?” You spoke with purpose now, tone wavering slightly as Marion stepped behind his wife.

“You don’t understand things around here, girl.” Adelina spat, moving aside as Marion began charging into the room. The loud blast of the gun echoed from the walls of the home followed by a harsh curse and the sound of a body crumpling to the floor. You had shot Marion in the leg; he’d live.

“No,” you started, re-racking the slide as Adelina’s other friend approached wielding a similar gun to your own. Adrenaline washed over your nervous system, your hands shook violently, but you attempted to remain composed. “You’re the one who doesn’t understand. This isn’t normal! Tell me what’s going on now or,” your eyes trailed down to Marion who was attempting to control the flow of blood from his wound.

“You wouldn’t.” She laughed bitterly.

“Like hell, I wouldn’t.” You exclaimed, training the gun onto her. “Now tell me, what’s happening here.”

“You’ll understand soon enough.” Adelina’s friend’s words were the last thing you heard before your ears rang and the sting of a bullet burnt white hot in your shoulder. You weren’t sure if your gun ever went off again.

Despite being tied, bathed, dressed, and currently sitting on a freezing alter-of-sorts, you still hadn’t the slightest clue as to what was going on. A crowd of villagers surrounded from the south, all carrying on with a rumble of conversation. Adelina shot daggers at you, Marion as well, from a small, inclined hill at the edge of the crowd. The clothes you wore were your own, she had fished through your backpack claiming that it was of no use to waste a nice dress on “someone like her.” Jezebel was likely still fast asleep at their house.

A woman with the likeness of the framed photo you had seen appeared out of nowhere. So, this was the famous Mother Miranda that everyone regarded so deeply. She stood before you as the crowd’s voices hushed and their eyes became hazed with looks of admiration and devoted appreciation. Surely, she was a human, deities and gods didn’t exist in a physical form, you assured yourself.

Without a word, Miranda moved gracefully as if flowing across the ground to stand before Adelina. Taking her face between her hands, she whispered what you assumed to be praise as Adelina’s lips moved rapidly thanking Miranda. She then moved to Marion and grazed her hand against the wound on his thigh, speaking of how his steadfast devotion would quickly heal any injuries of cruelty spread by evil. When her attention finally fell back to you, she frowned. Stalking around you in circles, Miranda’s imposing figure made you want to shrivel to nothingness.

“Thank you.” She turned to the villagers as if to dismiss them. “When the time comes, I will return for another.”

The black wings you had seen in the photo sprouted from her back, shielding your sight of the villagers as they retreated to their homes. Hopeful cries and shouted blessings to Miranda echoed from the crowd as the village gate slammed. The only evidence of them once populating this empty square were flowers and offerings of fruit and grain left for the supposed goddess.

The world swiftly darkened once more.

Part 2 - Paths Meet

I promise there's more Heisenberg in the next part..

Feedback is always appreciated

#karl heisenberg #heisenberg x reader #karl heisenburg x reader #resident evil village #resident evil heisenberg #re8 heisenberg #heisenberg imagine #lord heisenberg

[remsmoonlight]

— title : sweeter than candy

— word count : 3k words

— pairing : daryl dixon x reader

— summary : daryl is good at keeping things buried, but when the thought of words left unsaid do you both realise you have both been thinking the same thing about the other. 

— warnings : mentions injuries, mentions of death

“ hi!! OMGG I came across your account and I’m obsessed with your writing!! I was wondering if you could write a Daryl Dixon x Reader following candy coated promises. Where Daryl has developed feelings for reader and following an errand run she gets injured and has to stay in bed. And Daryl find out! If that makes sense! Thank you!!! “

           ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*   requests are open ! / requested by anon *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A deep desperation of yearning to be useful has led you to forget the risks involved in the interminable list of things that wish to cause you harm and are able to on such an intense scale. Luck had been on your side for so long, the illusion of life’s greatest ally refusing eluding your group for this long has proved itself to be just that — nothing more than an illusion. Once the burning of fear had dulled to nothing more than a dim ache, all you now feel is the one wound that does not run red yet pours into your veins as if it does. Stupidity. You’d volunteered yourself to go on a run with a small group, you’d spent enough time before the barbed wire fences, that you felt yourself becoming trapped.

A deep regret that would follow you even in death would be if any of your group would, too, meet their chapter’s end too soon by an immense error made on your part.

One thing that lays dormant in your mind, yet unable to completely fade is the fear of becoming too settled in safety. Spending too much time wrapped in a blanket of comfort that provides refuge from the grit the outside world revels in only hands you a vulnerability unsuitable for a reality submerged in death that roams freely. You don’t want to forget how to survive, you’ve come too far for that.

Part of that is how you have ended up being put to bedrest.

Your brain is yet to sort through and file the fleeting images that blend together into one disorientating image instead of a folder of what had occurred picture by picture. In one instance the group and yourself had been rummaging through the shelves that still contained some stock and the next, you’re rushing Maggie out of the way and pushing over shelves onto a growing horde of walkers. Though in the next second, your heart fell a thousand feet below as you lost your balance from the liquid coating the floor from where they’d tumbled and smashed to the floor, with the shards of glass forming a bewitching hazard.

“ your ankle still givin’ you trouble? “

The voice pulls you out of your thoughts, your sight settling on Maggie.

“ I don’t know if that hurts more or if these scratches do. “ You complain, your fingers lightly tug at the bandages that cover the fresh wounds that coat both of your palms, you take note of a number of loose fibres from the material.

“ Glass’ll do that to ‘ya. “ She chuckles, slowly moving into the room. She grabs a chair from the metal desk on the side and moves it next to your bed. “ I never got a chance to say thanks. “

“ You don’t have to worry about it. “ you refuse, shaking your head in turn.

“ I feel it’s my fault you’re like this. “

“ If we’re going to blame anyone, let’s blame my eyesight. I should have seen that wet patch. I should have been more careful. “ Frustration that burns bright in your reply as you turn away from her. Perhaps you’d spent too much time concealed from the harsh reality that constantly claws at you all as it takes refuge in a thick coat of a hauntingly isolating fog as it waits to drag you down with it further into the depths.

Mistakes are synonymous with fatalities now, one moment you’re on top of the world and in the next you can be in a free fall clutching the thin air as if it should be your saviour. Never have moments been promised, and this fact has never shone clearer than when the dead claimed the Earth for itself in an effort to void it of life wholly.

“ Hey, don’t be too hard on yourself. “ Maggie brings a hand forward to squeeze your shoulder momentarily, a comforting smile packaged with it easing some of the self loathing you could feel weaving itself into your being.

“ I don’t have much to do in here by myself, I have to keep myself entertained somehow. “

“ Well, I got an idea.. “ She trails off, a mischievous grin lifting her lips.

“ Maggie.. “ You utter a strict warning, already knowing where the conversation is about to lead.

She pauses for a second, laughter bouncing from grimy wall to grimy wall as she reacts to your cautionary tone, the light in her eyes bursting with the power of a thousand stars as it illuminates her features. Gratitude for the fleeting moments of rare normalcy that reflects a past occurrence in the old world runs deep, for a fraction of a second you can pretend you’re simply two friends joking about something goofy and foolish. For a minute, you’re not sheltering in a decrepit prison as you run from walkers, it’s a perfectly average afternoon.

“ You can’t tell me you don’t realise the way he looks your way now? I know you’ve been lookin’.. “

“ Okay, I think I'm tired now. “ You huff, shifting your body as to your ability with your injured ankle to face the wall that has an array of stains permanently painted into its surface.

Maggie only laughs in response, the sounds of steps dulling into nothing more than a ghost of an echo that informs you of her departure. Her words have pulled a string you’d not wished to pay attention to until it would be absolutely necessary. Needless to say that as much as you’d tried to bury the budding seeds of affection into the dirt, they’d only bloomed in force into a sea of colour with the evidence left to coat your fingertips for everyone to see.

Never had it been your intention to entertain this idea, when anything positive you’ve managed to seize with both hands can be ripped away so unexpectedly that you are left to nurse the empty space left behind of what once had been, grieving the idea of what could have been. However, there’s a dim curiosity that softly grows in size that envelopes around you, compelling a desire to reacquaint yourself with a human intimacy that fell to the back of the queue as the instinct to survive overwhelmed it. You don’t want to fear living, you don’t want to fear connecting to others on a deeper level, but you can’t help but simply.. be afraid.

Had you been in a different reality where the world continued on as normal, you would have probably fallen under his spell sooner.

Only after that one night you’d spent on watch together after he’d gone out of his way to bring you such a simple gift illuminated him in a way that your sight would often lean towards him. Many times you would find yourself analysing his actions on a deeper level, a coy warmth burying itself in the pit of your stomach when realising he’d included you in his thought process. From the chocolate bar, to you being the first person he’d check on if you needed anything before heading out on a run, to even the simple act of being there just to talk when life felt rough. A shape of one Daryl Dixon had been carved out by the man before either of you had realised.

A thunderous groan erupts from your lips as you turn onto your back to stare at the bunk on top with the realisation hitting you like a train threatening not to stop. You completely adore the Dixon.

About an hour away from the Prison Daryl secures the last of the rabbits caught, they swing side to side with each of his calculated movements. All Daryl finds himself wanting to do is to get back to the Prison, unable to push down the inclination of being back to the comfort the life behind those metal fences bring. It’s been a long day and all he’s interested in is getting back to those he holds dear.

That thought is when a fleeting frame of your face crosses his mind. Though he speaks not of which he truly wishes to share, the time you do spend together is something he cherishes more than a billionaire would with all of the money and rubies in the world if they had them in the palm of their hands. The darker side of him, the side that would always listen to those who preferred to taint his waters with their gloom, doesn’t allow the emotions constantly swirling within him to be touched by the burning sun rays as they are laid bare.

Heavy breaths fall without grace from his chest as he’s let through the gates, the stony expressions etched deeply into Carol’s features. No words need to be uttered to know it’s to do with you, Daryl doesn’t even allow a thought before he’s making his way on a path he has walked a thousand times and will walk a thousand times more. Creaks that echo in the darkening corridors that are not lit by the comforting flames of candles, the prison sounding as if it’s more in pain than it appears — still, he pays no care. His only goal is to check on you, he’d be unable to forgive himself if anything were to happen to you and he’d never be able to see you one last time. His brain conjures a number of horrific scenarios and tainted pictures to accompany them as it runs wild in a sea of dread.

The crossbow that had been secured in Daryl’s grip is lowered gently to the ground as he scans your form, a grateful sigh when he sees the slow movement of breathing.

He lowers himself into the chair next to your bed, trying to pinpoint the moment he’d stopped gazing upon your form as a friend to replace it with an aura of starlight — no longer did he see the colour of your eyes, but galaxies full of life and wonderment. Daryl allows himself a few seconds to chase each other by as he considers his next action, though deep down he’s aware his decision had already been chosen, as he threads his fingertips into yours to allow your warmth to comfort the panic that had been raging at the thought of your demise. His thumb traces a circle that is light enough to keep you tucked away in a slumber and as a comfort technique for him, where his mind allows him the time to placate himself.

Before he’s aware of it, the sky blends into itself once more as the pastel hues paint it with dashes of gold from the sun as dawn breaks and he’s hunched over with your hands still connected as one — the position held the entire night. Nothing can be heard in the confined space except a symphony of soft breathing from you both, the serenity only the early hours in which no one is awake brings comfort to the sleeping forms of you and Daryl.

A lengthy yawn escapes your lips as your eyes fight to open as they blink heavily to adjust to the light that invades as much as it can. The weight of something lying comfortably in your hands confuses you, as you distinctly remember there had been no pressure previously, the image before you washes your entire body with the icy grip of shock as you scan the trail leading from the hand within yours to the person it belongs to. Teeth grip your bottom lip as you bite it, attempting to battle away a smile that wishes to break free, you can’t believe the sense of humour that the universe has. Not an inch is moved by any part of your body, you seek to savour the intensity that such a simple action bears, your eyes positively glowing in adoration as a softer side to the man is revealed. Moments like these are few and far between, it leaves you wanting to bottle it up and pocket it forever.

A squeak of displeasure cuts through the serenity the early hours have worked so hard to cultivate as you inch your injured ankle to the side, clearly different positions prove to be the opposite of beneficial. The noise is enough to wake Daryl, his sudden alertness makes you doubt whether he’d truly been in a deep rest, but it’s the least of your worries as he realises he spent the night with his grip connected to yours. The warmth that brought a grounding comfort to your being now is a phantom touch you crave again once an eerily coolness now surrounds your empty palm.

“ ‘M sorry ‘bout that. “

“ There’s nothing to apologise for, Daryl. It was nice. “ You confess, your volume touches the air with a softness of a feather that descends to below in an elegant waltz.

“ Mhm. “ He turns his gaze to the floor, a thumb is chewed upon lightly as he’s wondering what he should say next. “ ‘Was worried about ‘ya as soon as I got back. “

“ Yeah, things just kinda happened. “

“ ‘Ya gotta watch y’self more out there. “ He scolds you with a light scorch of misplaced anger that almost lays eternally with him, a wave of anxiety at the thought of losing you are twins in a realm of horror he never wants to bear witness to.

“ I know, Daryl. “

Poisonous words full of fire and fury born out of dread of your existence in his life being cut short itch to burn your indifference to the situation. As he settles his gaze upon you, all he can see are the stolen moments you both have shared away from the group, where the person he’d created in his head built without even speaking to had been smashed into shards the more he got to know — you’re a fresh breath of peace in an unstable world that thrives on chaos. Quiet moments where all he can hear are the flickering embers of the fire are the memories he finds himself kicking for, all that lost time to never be recovered due to his preconceived notions.

“ Do ‘ya? “ Daryl shakes his head in frustration, his soul a pot of swirling emotions and thoughts blinding him to the point he can’t see straight. “ I can’t lose ‘ya. “

His voice is so low you barely hear it, your brows thread together in the slightest form as they’re unused to the window of Daryl’s vulnerability being so widely open.

“ You won’t. “ A faint twitch of your lips means well, you try to comfort the man. Your touch is delicate as your palm overlaps his with warmth.

“ Y’can’t promise that. “

“ But I can try! “ You argue lightly, a bounce in your response.

“ Forget it. “ Daryl sighs harshly, shaking his head as if to rid himself of the thoughts that run circles around his mind.

“ Daryl! Wait. “ Your voice falls on deaf ears as he’s already halfway towards the exit of the room, for a moment you forget your injury and a burning sensation flies with boundless wings up your protesting muscles and you land in a heap on the floor. The bandages do nothing to cushion your fall, you cry out in pain from the intensity of the throbbing plaguing your body.

“ Why can’t ‘ya be careful!? Damn it. “

Before you know it, Daryl is level with you as you feel his touch grazing your skin — ensuring you’d not injured yourself further. Guilt pools in his stomach at the thought of your current suffering being his fault, his ire now directs itself brightly towards him.

“ Dar — what’s going on? Why are you acting like this? “ You quiz as your expression contorts into a grimace. You’d not seen him behave like this for what feels like a long century, even more so when directed towards you.

“ Like what?! Huh? “

“ You’re being crazy! “ You state, your finger jabs into his chest.

“ Ain’t it obvious? “ Daryl asks suddenly.

Your head shakes, confusion clouds your features as if it’s an angry storm that has waited long enough for the calm — nothing can be seen through the darkened skies. All you want is for the sunny rays of truth to shed light upon this mess.

“ ‘Ya mean more to me than you should. “

“ Daryl? Do.. do you — ? “

He nods suddenly, unable to hear the words out loud no matter how true they ring, because as real as it is. There would be no taking it back then. Your lips purse as a sad smile lifts itself with no help from you, your heart hurting as you realise this could have been avoided entirely since you both appear to be on the same page. You acknowledge the fact that actions would speak louder than words in this scenario, your fingertips brush through darkened strands of hair as if they play a sheet of music with the aging competence of a commanding pianist. This is one of many songs your mind finds itself conjuring, a burning hope of this forging something more between you. It’s not long before your arms are wrapped around his neck, with Daryl unable to believe the scene in which he finds himself in, you’re a sky full of stars that he finds himself wanting to get lost in.

“ We can take this one step at a time, yeah? “ You question softly, not wanting to be witness to the fleeting images of a set of angel wings.

He agrees silently, a warmth spreads outwards from your cheeks and treks outwards to cover your completely. The moment is sweet, as it concludes with a honeyed kiss on his tanned cheek. In one frame you both are thinking the same thing, just how lucky you are to have fought through your fears of living and given in to taking the plunge into unchartered waters that Maggie and Glenn have already found themselves navigating.

In a world full of the dead, you both agree that to love shouldn’t be a reason to cower and hide.

#daryl x reader #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon oneshot #twd imagine #daryl fic #twd oneshot #daryl dixon imagine

[hargrove-mayfields]

Day four of the Horror on Cherry Lane Challenge! Today’s prompt was Sunglasses!

Steve has a lot of secrets. Too many probably.

Most teenagers’ secrets are things like sleeping with the wrong people, smoking the cheap shit the jocks pass out, broken curfews and failing grades. He’s got all of those too, but Steve's secret runs much deeper than that.

His is the kind of secret that’d have men in black suits coming to take him away, or at this point, more than a decade after letting him go in the first place, putting a bullet in the back of his skull and calling it a day before any trouble comes up.

He’s been stuck in Hawkins all his life. Been fed the knowledge about the world off a silver spoon he didn’t ask for. His first five years of life are well forgotten to shock therapy and to the lab, where they intended to use him and the rest of the kids like him as weapons. Pawns in their big game of life.

But Steve was different. He could turn his powers off, make them undetectable by the machines they hooked him up to. They thought he was just a failure, so after so long, they wiped his brain with their very own cocktail of drugs and just let him go. Adopted him out to a middle aged dink couple who wouldn’t run their mouths about where their little bundle of joy came from as long as their pockets were lined with enough hush money, and that was that.

It didn’t take long for them to realize though, that he wasn’t as normal as they had been convinced he was. Not even knowing he was doing anything wrong, little Stevie would have outbursts, or small tantrums as momma always tried to convince everyone who told her Steve was too much for her to handle.

These weren’t just normal crying fits though. Anyone who got near him would be just as sad or scared or frustrated as he was. A single sob from that boy had enough power to crack the foundations of the family home.

Most kids when they have a cranky morning will get on the nerves of their parents, but Steve could disrupt the whole neighborhood without even realizing it. And that was his power.

They didn’t have a name for it, really. The range of what he can do is too broad, too undefined by anything else. There was a telekinetic girl, a pyrokinetic he’s pretty sure is dead now. But Steve was just special. Part of what made it so easy to go under their radar was this, but it also made him a risk.

The only reason he wasn’t immediately reported and given back to the bad men was the power this frail boy carried. It scared Ruthie and John, and they decided that they’d rather face the men at that lab again than a seven year old who could accidentally destroy them with his emotions.

So they kept him, and certainly kept their distance. They forced him into a little mold of how to behave properly and made him take pills to weaken his powers. They send him to behavioral therapy and make him act like he’s not a failed government experiment. A fact which he only learned a couple of years ago after his pills worked a little too well at messing with his memory that he forgot to take them, and memories came flooding back.

For the same reasons, Steve’s bored of being careful. Bored of following all the rules and being passive, just pretending he’s like everyone else so mommy and daddy dearest are safe. He starts getting a little riskier, testing what he can do, since this is the first time he’s ever really had control over his ability. He finds a link with other people and their emotions, something of an empathy power, but he doesn’t get far in his research, because his plan very quickly goes to shit when Billy Hargrove rolls into town.

Where to begin with Billy. That boy makes him feel all sorts of things he never even considered. The very first day he showed his unimpressed (but very impressive) face at Hawkins high, Steve cracks his windshield. Oops.

He was able to tap into that control and tone it down, but that reserve dwindled the more he’s around Billy, and from there it just spirals. Bending the basketball hoop on accident, exploding light fixtures, giving everyone in the school headaches. It gets to the point where Steve has to come to terms with the fact that he had a crush on Billy, and that he has to do something to get it back under his control before somebody gets hurt.

That and he doesn’t want to get caught now. He just got back into the swing of using his powers before Billy interrupted his calm. Going back there, or whatever else might happen, is the last thing he wants for himself.

He settles for a pair of ray bans.

It’s stupid, but when Steve was still young and all but popping his mommas brains every single time he cried, she was desperate to find a way to get him to stop. She started to notice he’d concentrate hard on one thing and another would happen, staring at a lamp until it shattered, looking into her face until her ears started to ring and pop. So she does what she can to break that subconscious focus. Puts a barrier between him and all that he’s hurting. A plastic, race car themed barrier, but it does its job, and it worked every time until they got him on meds. So now that he’s old enough not to just tear the damn things right off his face, he figures it’s worth a shot.

Because nothing had made him this emotional, this out of control since the day he found out the truth about his past. Billy is special, and the very last thing he wants is to lose control and hurt him.

He still feels like a dope walking into the school with a pair of shades on. Everyone starts to stare in that way he tries not to let remind him of the lab and the doctors standing in circles around him, prodding and waiting for a reaction. Steve thinks wearing sunglass inside is the least weird thing to happen in the halls of a highschool if Tina can come in with a perm high enough to touch the ceiling, but whatever. He’ll get over it.

The fact that nothing’s exploded from how on edge he is, mostly from wondering if his momma’s trick will work and not because of their judgement, is a very good sign.

Boldly, he decides to put it to the ultimate test, and approaches Billy.

In his head, he’s so focused on just going to talk to Billy, he has nothing planned to say to him, but he thinks he would’ve forgotten anyways, what with the lazy smile Billy flashes him when he notices him approaching.

Steve’s gaze quickly darts past Billy to check for damage to anything, the racing in his chest from just a look like that typically enough to at least crack a window. Maybe he’s not as confident about this as he thought, or maybe Billy’s just really good at making him flustered.

Doesn’t matter, because he’s at the other boys locker before he has time to process what he’s doing, “Lookin’ for somethin’ Harrington?”

“Oh, yeah, I was just checking for uh, my fans. Yeah, they follow me around everywhere, you know?” It’s bullshit, and it sounds more than dumb coming out of Steve’s mouth, but it makes Billy laugh, real low and raspy and that’s a win in his book.

“That what the little disguise is for?” Billy hums and taps his temple, clearly referring to the sun glasses perched on Steve’s nose.

“Oh these? No, I uh, wear these ‘cause of the uh.. because I wanna sleep in class and down want the teachers to know?” His answer comes as more of a question than anything, so he’s grateful when Billy seems to be more interested in his excuse than the subject at hand.

“Pfft, yeah right. I’ve heard you sleepin’ on the basketball bus. Ain’t no way your snoring doesn’t get you caught before your eyes do.”

Steve just waves him off, laughs with Billy even if his heart isn’t in it.

Billy closes his locker door, switching the subject as the scenery switches. It’s all a distraction to Steve, but he forces himself to look Billy in the face as the other boy asks him, “Seriously though dude, you okay? It ain’t like you to switch up your look. You’re not hiding anythin’ under the shades are you?”

“Nah. Just been thinking, I’m not the King because I’m not cool anymore, right? So I’m tryin’ to look a little more.. interesting.” Steve’s not a very quick or good liar, despite the military guarded secret that is himself and the little black number seven carved into his arm, and he can tell Billy doesn’t buy it.

He’s a good sport though, throwing an arm around Steve’s shoulders and assuring him with a little jostle, “Aw, Stevie, you're cool in my book. At least as long as you quit comin’ up with reasons not to hang with me, yeah?”

“Yeah, I- alright. I can do that. Sorry for flaking so much though. Didn’t realize until you said something.”

“S’Cool. Just meet me at the quarry after dark and it’ll make up for it.” Billy offers, obviously trying to play up the coolness neither of them apparently actually have, and Steve can’t help but call him on it. “It gets dark at like, four-thirty, five o’clock anymore?”

“Fine. Meet me at nine, pretty boy.” Billy smirks, dropping his voice to add knowingly, “And lose the shades. I think you’re much more interesting without ‘em.”

#CherryLangeChallenge #harringrove #billy x steve #steve harrington #billy hargrove #experiment! steve #ej writer #story by ej! #this is a mess but that’s okay #I have two midterms tomorrow and can’t be bothered with cleaning this up again

[youryanderedaddy]

Honey dripping

 Yandere! Jumin Han x reader

tw: nsfw, murder, non-con, dub-con, mentions of cheating, mentions of blood, slight sugar daddy vibe, dirty talk, degradation, mention of threats

Summary: Your boyfriend provides everything for you and the only thing he expects in return is your love and loyalty. So of course when you fail to give him that, he gets a little angry. 

 It was useless - all your struggling and pained little pants. Nothing could stop the brutality unfolding before your eyes, glossy with tears. They were red and sore from the crying, but your despair wasn’t enough to melt his cold black heart. You knew that it was your fault and now someone had to pay the price. You couldn’t deny it, not when it was obvious to the outside gaze exactly what had happened while your loving caretaker was away, working hard to support you and give you anything your heart desired. The bed was messy with the white sheets all crumbled and the smell of adultery in the air still heavy and thick. No pretty words and sweet talking could get you out of the sticky situation this time around.

 “Please, tell them to stop!” You whispered, looking at Jumin with the big doe eyes you used when you wanted something to go your way. You even gently touched his hand, trying to wrap your fingers around his to calm him down, only to be met with a cold empty stare of disgust in return. It pierced through your heart like a thousand sharp arrows and your throat tightened in fear as you watched the bussinessman’s bodyguards beat your lover into a sweaty mess of flesh, snot and blood, weeping on the floor. The poor unfortunate soul was two punches away from the afterlife and there was no one to blame, but yourself. Shivers ran through your body from the cold and you realized you were still half - naked, the only thing protecting your most intimate parts being the oversized shirt of the dying man. Jumin glared at you for a long moment, studying the soft features of your delicate face before making an important decision. 

 “Kill him.” He finally ordered, voice monotone and unbothered by the inhuman whim. With a quick snap of his slender fingers the CEO-in-line had your paramour lifeless, dead on the ground. It happened so fast you found it hard to process down the murder, despite seeing clearly the unmoving figure and all the red sticky liquid he was drowned in. A hard lump stuck at the back of your throat, making it hard to swallow or even breathe, but the panic rising in your chest went unnoticed by Jumin, who was ready to turn his full attention to you, pining you with his cruel gray eyes. “I thought you were different.” He started off slowly, moving closer to you. “You were always so sweet and innocent I almost fell for your little tricks.” The man smiled bitterly, the sadness reflecting in his pupils as he took another step towards you. Now you could feel his big hands grabbing at your hips, drawing you in, and his hot breath on your neck - but he didn’t bite just yet. “I should have known better, that’s on me. After all you are just like those women who use my father for his money and status.” He whispered into your ear as he dig his nails deep into you bare thighs, squizing the naked flesh roughly. “You may be a cheap lying whore, but I still love you.” The bussinessman scratched at the vulnerable skin on your lower body before placing a small wet kiss on your collarbone. “I have invested so much in you, darling, but you seem to have forgotten that.” Jumin finally raised his head, smashing his lips onto yours, pushing his tongue all the way in, leaving you breathing hard and brushing off the saliva running down your chin. “I will teach you what happens when you forget your place, kitten.”

 WIth that the man dragged you towards the unmade bed, a harsh reminder of your betrayal, and despite all your squirming and pulling away, begging him to let you go, soon he had you pinned onto the mattress with your wrists trapped beneath his. The director wasted no time in ripping apart the clothing, soaked with the smell of another man. The swift aggressive move left you fully exposed and bare in front of the hungry lustful monster, the fear and andrenaline in your veins turning everything into a hazy mess of ugly emotions and silent sobs. You tried to close your legs, but the attempts to cover yourself were fruitless as the rich man simply tied your thighs, spreading you all to himself. Jumin couldn’t help running a finger up your slit, circling the small sensitive bud in the center until he felt your walls clench around his forefinger, and eventually it came out wet. 

 “How interesting.” The director stated, smirking with malice. “I thought you didn’t love me anymore, but your body is pointing otherwise.” You whimpered at his words, but your body gave you away as your hips rocked in the air in hopes of finding more stimulation. “I just killed your lover and your wet little pussy still wants me to fill it up, kitten.” Jumin started undoing his belt, taking out his member, hard at the sight of you so open and flustered, ripe for the taking. With one hand he groped your breast, messaging it gently, pulling slightly at the stiff raspberry tip, while the other kept fingering you in a steady pace. 

 “J-jumin!” You cried out in pleasure despite your best efforts to stay quiet while he played with your body like it was just another one of his possessions. It was humiliating, infuriating even, but there was nothing you could do except lay there and take it like a good little doll. You couln’t even fight off the moans coming out of your scarlet lips because his touch felt so good in such a wrong way. “Please, I am sorry! D-don’t do this to me.” You sobbed, letting the logical part of your brain speak as your cunt twitched in the upcoming orgasm that soon washed over you in one powerful wave. It was painfully satisfiying and left you panting heavily, trying to catch your breath. 

 “You want me to stop?” The bussinessman suddenly pushed the head of his throbbing member into your entrance, but stopped to look you straight in the eyes. There was no sight of defiance in them, only guilt and desperation - and to him you were the prettiest when needy, broken down and obedient for him. The tears were streaming down your face leaving a salty red trace on your puffy cheeks, and he licked it, running his tongue slowly and teasingly on your hot skin. “If you hate it so much, then, perhaps, you won’t come all over my cock like a little slut, yeah?” Jumin replied huskily, sucking and biting at your neck until several lovebites in all shades of blue and purple were formed, like a collar. The man then forced his lenght into your responsive hole without giving you the time to get used to it properly. Your expression changed from pleasure to pain and you whimpered in agony while the CEO-in-line shoved himself mercilessly into your heat, hitting the overstimulated nervs over and over again. Despite the initial discomort and shock your body managed to relax under the rough treatment and after a few minutes you started to arch your back to meet the harsh punishing thrusts. 

 “Look at you.” He spoke out, the coldness in his voice piercing your skin while you watched the sweat cover his pitch black hair. “ You are moaning like a dumb little slut while I fuck you silly even though you should be fighting be off. ” The director squeezed your tits, rocking his hips faster and faster - he was very close. “And now I am going to blow my load into you and mark you as mine.” The bussinessman kept hitting your sweet spot, abusing the sensitive place with his manhood. “We will do it together, I will count. You are not allowed to come before me.” The man commanded sternly without losing speed or strenght, staring at you with an intense gaze filled with lust, obsession and adoration. “One, two...” He lowered himself onto your tight hole as he kissed you passionately, invading your mouth with his wet tongue. “Three.” Jumin thrusted lastly before releasing the white thick liquid into your pussy. “Cum for me, my love.” He whispered softly into your ear while playing with your hard nipples. “Cum while I fill you up with my seed.” The bussinessmen kept stirring you up, teasing you, until he felt your cunt clench down, throbbing with need. You finally orgasmed, throwing your head back during the high of the terribly delightful sensation. You closed your eyes - there was nothing left to do or say after the violation.

 “Your punishment has come to its end now.” You heard his cold voice from far above you and it felt awfully distant but at this point you didn’t care. You just wanted to qucikly fall asleep and drift away to a different place. Somewhere warm and cozy where no one could hurt you. Unfortunately, his last sentence caught your attention. “But if you ever betray me again, I won’t be so loving anymore. What goes around comes around. Beware, darling.”

#male yandere x reader #yandere jumin x reader #yandere oneshot #yandere mystic messenger #yandere jumin han #yandere male x reader #yandere #yandere male #yandere fanfiction #yandere smut #yancore #yandere one shot #yandere prompt

[tastyykpop]

𝑆𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝐶𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑢𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛

•pairings: enemy, barista and student!jaemin x student and barista!reader

♡𝑠𝑚𝑢𝑡♡

<next>

•warnings: dom!jaemin, brat!reader, brat taming, crying kink, hair pulling, choking, small praising, small size kink, degradation (slut, whore), dumbification (sexual and non sexual use) nanas kinda mean :( but gets a lil nicer :), jaemin refers to himself as nana a lot mostly when they do the dirty, bulging kink, pet names (princess, baby, baby girl, little girl, pretty girl), unprotected sex (please be safe), slight face slapping (he slaps her once), rough sex clearly, some sexual tension, I hope i got everything

You were fuming!

The boy in front of you not even batting an eyelash, just laughing at the mess dripping down your face.

You smelt like an iced americano.

People around you held their hands to their mouths in shock and others tried to hold back their laughter. Some even pointed at you or gave sympathetic looks.

It wasnt like people were surprised anymore. Jaemin always had something up his sleeve for you. But he never went as far as pouring his coffee on you.

"Aw poor baby. Do you need a napkin?" He faked sympathy with a pout and his friends began laughing. You just got up and walk by them, making sure to bump into jaemins shoulder on your way through.

It was almost everyday that Jaemin would do something so uncalled for. It was like he was made to push your buttons. Even as you're walking out of the college building, you can still hear the boy laughing at you. Or maybe it was the other students. Either way, you wanted to kill him.

As you trudged towards your car, a sense of relief washed over you. A great happiness that only comes when you finished your classes and could go home. Only this happiness stayed for a good 2 hours until you have to go to your part time job at the cafe with your favorite person of course. But its not like you can quit. You need the money so you can live and get the education you need, no matter how hard it is being with him.

It was then when you sat in your car and the squishing in the seat made your face curl into a scowl, only made you think of ways to get away with murder. It was gross really. The seats were sticky, plus your hair and clothes were sticking to you like lip gloss. A shower would be perfect right about now.

"Hi y- oh..." Your roommate, jimin, stared at your messy state. Giving you a good up and down before shrugging his shoulders, "jaemin?"

You sighed, walking over to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water, "Who else? Its always him."

Jimin gave you a small smile and came closer as if ready to hug you but didn't because he didn't want to get sticky. "You know, maybe you should quit that job."

"No."

He groaned and snatched the water that you were about to sip, "Why? You'd only see jaemin in school. And you wouldnt have to stick with his bickering in work." He huffed, shaking his head, "Girls are so difficult sometimes."

You tried leaping up to grab the bottle from jimin, but all he did was hold it above his head. You stomped on his foot in return. Jimin huddled over and you snatched the bottle, smirking with victory as you put it to your lips.

"You fucking snake." Jimin hissed in pain.

A laugh fell from your lips as you walked by him, completely ignoring his words and his pain, "Im gonna take a shower."

Once you got to your room, the first thing you did was grab your work clothes, a towel, and underwear and got ready for the warm shower.

After you switched on the water and let it heat up, you stepped in and immediately felt at peace as the water cascaded over your body, cleaning off the almost dried coffee. Your hair felt lighter, like a feather and your fingers could now slip through the strands easily without an issue. The scent of your body wash overpowered the coffee smell and you felt much better. Water, soap, and coffee were beginning to fill the drain as you finished washing up. You rolled your eyes at the sight of the murky water. What a bastard.

For once you were actually happy to wear your work clothes after what had happened earlier. The clothes actually felt comfortable and jimin was becoming more and more confused as to why you were hugging yourself with a huge smile on the couch.

"No one should be that happy after a shower." He started flipping through channels on the t.v.

"Dont tell me how to feel, I dont smell like jaemins coffee anymore." You gushed overdramtically. Jimin could only role his eyes.

"Please...you act like he's a demon of some sort."

You squinted your eyes at jimin and flared your nostrils, "he is. Hes a nasty, dumb, annoying, self centered-"

"Okay okay I get it! You hate jaemin! The funny thing is you can never get his name out of your mouth." Everything stopped and your head snapped in jimins directions.

"What are you saying?" A frown found itself on your face, jimin leaned closer.

"Im saying that maybe you might like him."

You shrieked in disgust, blocking your ears with your hands. Jimin laughed at your reaction. Almost falling off the couch in the process. "Ew! Gross! Why would you even think that!"

"Like I said, you can never get his name out of your mouth. I think its pretty obvious you like him." He was still giggling at you except your face was anything but happy, more grossed out at how he thought you could like such a person

"I can't stand you. I'm leaving for work." You stood up and jimin did nothing to stop you from going. Even though you still had about 15 minutes until you normally leave. "Ill be back at 9." The door slammed behind you, leaving jimin alone with another laughing fit.

You got in the car and drove off to your work, still trying to come up with a reason as to why jimin is saying all this. Sure maybe you talk about jaemin a little lot but that doesn't mean you like him. Its very much the opposite and jimin should know that. It only frustrates you the more you think about it. Liking someone like jaemin? Please. That would be your nightmare.

As you pulled up to the cafe, there were only a few other cars parked. Few were from other workers but the majority were most like customers or people just trying to get a free parking space. Lucky for you, there were many open spaces, unlike when you come later and they're filled. Maybe leaving earlier wasnt such a bad idea. It saved you the 3 minute walk.

"Y/n! You're just on time!" One of your coworkers, irene, called out as you stepped inside the shop. "We need help back here!" You had no time to even begin to say your shift hasn't started yet when irene took you by the hand and dragged you to where the coffee was being made. "We have a bunch of online orders coming in so can you please help us with the coffee and food?" She tossed you a brown apron for you to put on and you nodded, trying to get your brain to speed up with everything in the world.

It was so quiet when you walked in that you never even realized that the back was busy. Coffee cups were filled and put into trays for orders, food was being heated or baked. It was a chaotic place right now and all you could do was help. So as fast as you could, you began with the first order on the screen. A large mocha with extra extra sugar, whipped cream, and chocolate curls. Easy enough you thought as you reached for a cup but a hand beat you to it.

Your eyes looked up at the person in front of you and just when you thought everything was going fine, it wasn't, "What are you doing here so early?" You asked bitterly.

"I always come in early. What are you doing here so early?" Jaemin asked whilst holding a death grip on the cup.

"Just felt like coming early." You muttered, watching as jaemin turned away with a scoff, quickly cutting the conversation short. "Bastard."

Jaemin was busy making what you were originally going to do, so you looked for another order to get ready. It was just two cake pops and a small strawberry banana smoothie. Something you've been craving recently from the lack of sweetness and fruit in your day to day life.

The cake pops and smoothie were quick to make and were soon sent off to the customer. You happily beamed and wished them good day once they left.

After then there was a familiar face with a friend right next to him, he was quite handsome you must say. He was indeed so handsome that he just looked unreal. "Hey jimin. Whose this?" You nodded towards the bright black haired man.

"This is taemin! He wanted some coffee so I brought him- hey stop staring at him!" Jimin snapped you out of your trance and taemin chuckled.

"Its okay shes cute." He eye smiled, showing off his perfectly white teeth. He's definitely not real.

Jimin tsk'd, "Until you get to know her."

"Yeah yeah... whatever." You smiled at him, completely oblivious to what he just said.

They both ordered and took a seat next to the window. You were still staring at taemin with your head in your hand until someone tapped your shoulder, "Who are they?" Jaemins voice rang in your ears, making you stand up straight.

"Thats my roommate, jimin, and his friend taemin." You glanced back at the boys, mainly at taemin and just stared like he was your first crush.

"Quit staring your gonna scare him away." Jaemin said earning himself a chuckle from you.

You stuck your tongue out, "He called me cute."

The boy smirked from ear to ear and leaned in close to your face, "He was lying." You grumbled and pushed him away from you, getting annoyed by his presence very quickly.

"Jaemin and y/n, get back to work we have orders to do!" Irene called out. Both of you quickly returning to your stations and getting things ready.

"Look at him. Hes basically waiting for me to come over to him." Seulgi, another person in this school you dispise, said as she looked at jaemin in the back of the room. She wasn't very quiet either considering you were only a few seats away from him. So it only meant that jaemin could hear her, but chose to ignore it. Typical boy.

"Honestly. He looks so good today too." Sana, her best friend, commented.

"Oh and did you hear what he was planning on doing today to y/n? Apparently he's gonna-"

"Class get back in your seats, we have much to discuss." The professor stood in the front of the class. Everyone shifted and moved to their appropriate places and waited for the teacher to begin. Unlike you, who was wondering what seulgi was going to say next. If its something worse than coffee being poured on your head, you may just have to bury yourself six feet under after this.

As you were taking notes something flung towards your head and hit you on the side, looking over was jaemin with a smirk was he held his fingers in a sling shot shape. A rubber band was laying on your lap. Then another one. One even hit your cheek creating a small smack sound as you winced in pain. Oh you desperately wanted to get out of this seat and punch the boy in the face.

"Excuse me sir!" You called out, raising your head. The whole class looked at you and your cheeks began to heat up. "May i go to the restroom?" The professor nodded and you headed out. Not until you stopped in your tracks from a loud smack to your butt, causing the whole class to turn around again.

Jaemin was enjoying this, the way you stared at him with wide eyes and open mouth, made him just want to do it again. He never thought this reaction from you would be so entertaining and he tried his best not show it, with only a small smirk covering his face.

You rushed out of the room, faster than ever and leaned against the nearest surface you could find. Not only were you questioning reality, but also why jaemin just did that.

"That little bitch." You said to yourself as you paced back and forth in the hallway, staring at the ground.

"Excuse me?" Jaemin voice rang in your ears as you looked up with a angry red face. Steam was even coming out of your ears and nose. "Did you just call nana a bitch?" He put his hands to his chest and pouted, "Little girl you need to learn some manners." Jaemin tilted his head to the side and began walking forward.

"Shut up." You had nothing else to say as you grit your teeth, looking at the ground.

Jaemin didnt like that and grabbed the back of your neck to make you look at him, "What? Did your stupid head stop thinking? Your normally so chatty for nana what happened?"

"Jaemin i-" you cut yourself off as you felt jaemin grip the back of your neck tighter causing you to moan in pain.

"Stupid girl." Jaemin whispered, forcefully pushing you away. It was not strong enough to make you fall but at least stumble.

You glowered, earning yourself a chuckle from him. "What will it take for you to leave me alone!?"

"Bring this to table 15 please! Thanks!" Irene smiled as she handed you a small cup of iced coffee and you took it, taking it to its designated place. What you didn't except was to see taemin again, gleaming up at you.

"Hi y/n." He smiled and you tried to remain calm.

God how is someone so beautiful?

"Hey, I didnt except you to come back." You returned the warm smile and started to play with the apron around your waist.

Taemin giggled, "I actually quite like this place, its cozy." He began to take a sip from the straw, eyes still trained on you. If only you weren't so awkward with him, you wouldve found something to say other than staring at him and indulging in the beauty before you. But lucky for you someone behind the counter called for you, quickly averting your attention back to work.

The next order was a shake, so you grabbed the correct ingredients and began using the blendor, when someone came next to you, doing the same thing "You seem like your having fun flirting around." The unwanted conversation with jaemin began, "makes nana kind of jealous."

"Hm funny." You ignored him and continued blending the ice cream.

Jaemin casually rolled his eyes and glanced down at your nonchalant face before returning back to the blender, "you know you really do piss me off."

You sneered and snickered to yourself, "what are you gonna do about it?"

"I was thinking of fucking you dumb or until you know your place but maybe thats a bit too rewarding."

The cup was removed and set aside from the blender with your hands placed on your hips, "Im sorry what?"

"Did I stutter?" Jaemin raised an eyebrow and also put the cup down. You went silent, not knowing whether or not to just laugh it off or quickly run away. "And I'm still waiting on my apology."

"One, I am not going to apologize to your bitchy ass. Two, even if I did let you, you could never 'fuck me dumb', it just wouldn't happen. Now stop trying to get in my pants."

Jaemin opened then closed his mouth about to say something, but didn't and just put on a sweet smile, "Go take these to table 7 for nana." He said like he was testing yoj.

"Why? You made them."

"Nana told you to do something little girl, now do it." Jaemins sweet smile was still plastered on his face yet it intimidated you enough to do as he said.

Taemin was long gone when you walked out and you were kind of sad as you weren't able to say goodbye before he left. You placed the shake down on the table and was ready to walk away when you heard your name being called.

"Y/n? You work here?" Seulgis voice spoke as you turned around. Both her and sana were looking at you with shit eating grins.

"Doesn't jaemin also work here seulgi?" Sana asked the girl in front of her and seulgi looked as if she got the brightest idea.

"Oh yeah! Y/n can you get jaemin over here? Pretty please?" She asked sweetly yet with a hint of sourness and you listened, not feeling like ignoring her at the moment.

You told jaemin that seulgi and sana were out front looking for him and he nonchalantly went out without question. Leaving you to do some of the work alone, which you didn't mind considering its jaemin, the annoying bastard who won't leave you alone, but he does help you whenever you need it. And right now, it was a bit busy, and you needed it.

After doing 4 more online orders and sending them off through the driveway, jaemin finally came back with a scowl on his face looking ready to beat someone up. "What the hell is wrong with you!?" He raised his voice only loud enough for you to hear. But you were quite confused on what was happening.

"What are you talking about?" You asked, tilting your head to the side like a puppy.

Jaemin groaned, "I knew you were fucking dumb but come on y/n! Why is seulgi covered in the shake i gave you?"

You paused for a moment, unable to answer that. Is he assuming you spilt her shake on her? Why would you even do that in the first place. Yeah you don't like her, but you're not going to stoop to her or his level. "I dont know."

He slammed his hand on the wall near your head, startling you a bit, "You dont know huh?" You shook your head slowly. "Seulgi and sana both said you purposefully spilt the shake on seulgi. Now answer me honestly. Is that true?" You shook your head again, feeling really small and helpless under his strong gaze.

"I-i didnt spill t-the skake." You muttered quietly.

He inhaled sharply, "Then who did huh? Or maybe you don't know because you're so dumb."

"S-stop..." you frowned, looking down at floor, but jaemin had other plans and made you look up at him. A single tear slide down your cheek and you swear you saw a small grin appear on his face.

"Tell nana what happened." His voice became softer as he swiped away the stray tear on your face.

You huffed, still afraid that he'd do something to you although you knew he wouldnt purposely cause you pain. "W-well she asked me to go get you, which I did, a-and her shake was perfectly fine when I left."

"Are you saying she purposely spilt the shake on herself to make me angry at you?"

"Y-yes."

"Ill believe my little girl for now, but if I find out you are lying, you will be in big trouble got that?" Jaemin lifted his hand off the wall and proceeded to walk back out of the room. Leaving you shocked at his words and still frightened by an angry jaemin.

You went to the cash register once jaemin left to get ready to count the bills until you heard jaemin and seulgi arguing. Lucky for them, no one but you and him were working right now. Irene went home earlier and the normal crew always leave around 6:30, leaving just you and jaemin.

"It was only a prank nana. No need to get so worked up. And besides you didn't even prank her today, be glad I did for you." Seulgi said smiling at the boy in front of her.

Jaemin physically cringed when he heard his nickname roll off her tongue, "you didn't have to do that."

You stood there watching, astonished how jaemin was standing up for you. Hes supposed to hate you. Jaemin didn't even bother going with the girls when they offered him a ride, instead he stayed with you and even helped close. Something he normally doesn't do because he leaves before you and gives you all the hard things to do.

"Hurry up and finish." Jaemin spoke. A little bit of anger still laced in his voice.

"Whats your rush?"

He sighed, "I wanna go home. Plus I can't stand this place right now. I'm pissed."

You finished wiping down that last table and walked over to him, "Just go home then."

"Not without you."

You gave him a dirty look, "im not going home with you."

Jaemin leaned down, his face only inches from yours and whispered, "Remember what I said earlier hm? I wanna fuck you dumb." He then grabbed your waist bringing you closer to him, if that was possible, "Can I do that pretty girl? Can nana fuck you so hard you won't even remember anything but my cock?" You were so lost in your mind that everything became a blur. Jaemins words sounded so sweet but were so lewd. And you were so close to kissing him until he put his finger on your lips, "But you have to wait." You frowned and were only getting more angry by the second. You went from not wanting anything to do with jaemin to just about ready to beg him to kiss you. Was it that easy for him to get in your head? Or were you so sex deprived that now jaemin seemed somewhat interesting?

You laid on jaemins bed getting bored with the constant teasing. He never did anything but that. Jaemin would get close to your lips and back away as you chased him. Hed chuckle and coo at you for being so desperate. But that wasn't the point of all the teasing. He really just wanted you to beg him to kiss you. No words will come out of his mouth telling you to beg, he just excepted it to happen sooner or later. But youre too stubborn to do so, so you grabbed the back of his neck and pulled him down to kiss him, catching him by surprise.

Jaemins hands gripped your wrists and pulled them off his face, pinning them to the bed, "You didnt even ask to kiss me." Jaemin pulled away, raising his eyebrow high, "Dont you think thats a bit mean."

"So was teasing me, but I let you continue." You huffed, trying to free your wrists from his death grip but it was no use.

"You dont have a say on whether i continue or not. I'm in charge here and you take what I give you, understand?" You rolled your eyes. It was your intention to make jaemin angry. You wanted to push his buttons.

What you didnt know was that not answering jaemin correctly would earn you a slap to the face. And jaemin was not even fazed by it.

"Dont roll your eyes and answer nana." Jaemin smiled. "Can you say 'yes nana'?"

"Y-yes nana."

"Good girl." Jaemin muttered and began slowly kissing your jawline down to your neck, sucking here and there creating shades of purple and red marks. Oh how he loved the marks he was leaving.

You so desperately wanted to grip onto jaemins hair and pull it but he never budged his hands, only tightening his grasps. As he continued attacking your neck, you began to lift your hips up to get some sort friction. Jaemin noticed and shifted so that his thigh was in between your legs and rubbing against your clothed core. A spew of quiet moans left your lips but you wanted more. Jaemin was going to soft and slow for your liking.

"I thought you were going to fuck me dumb?" You said and jaemin lifted his head to give you a quick kiss on the lips.

"Patience baby. You aren't ready yet." He let go of your wrists and took your shirt off. The cold air made you shiver and jaemin chuckled. "I wanna make you cum at least 2 times before I fuck you."

"Then stop talking and do it." You replied, pushing your hips up to rub against his thigh, but they were pushed back down on the bed.

"Didnt I say to take what I give you?" Your head slowly moved up and down and jaemin smiled, "so why arent you happy with what nana gives you?"

"I want more..." you sighed as he started to slide your pants and panties off, discarding them somewhere in the room. His mouth slowly started kissing your inner thighs and you could feel your heat dripping with anticipation. You whined for more but only got a slap to the thigh telling you to be quiet. Needless to say you didn't listen and continued to try to get him closer to where you needed him most but pulling his hair.

Jaemin groaned grabbing your wrist again and pushed it away roughly. His patience was wearing out. You were more stubborn than he thought, but that doesn't mean he can't still break you. "Next time you do that, I'll flip you over and beat your ass till its purple." Your breath hitched and as much as you were tempted, you wanted to be able to sit for a few days so you stayed put and kept your hands to yourself.

But the desperation was getting to you and you wanted relief which jaemin wasnt giving you until you felt his two fingers circling around your clit. "P-please jaemin." You moaned as he flicked your clit with his middle finger. Then soon enough he stuck two fingers inside you. Your pussy automatically clenching around his digits as he moved at a steady in and out pace.

It felt so good. His fingers felt so good. They made your body twist in pleasure as more moans left your mouth. Jaemin was watching your face closely as it contorted with pleasure. He loved seeing your eyebrows bunched together, so focused on the way his fingers worked inside you.

"My pretty slut. Taking nanas fingers so well." He gushed, still watching your face. Jaemin could feel himself get even more painfully hard but he didn't want to fuck you just yet. He meant it when he said he wanted you to cum 2 times. So he picked up the speed with his fingers, your hands landing on his forearm that was resting on near your hip. "Are you gonna cum for nana princess?"

You frantically nodded your head as a wave of pleasure washed over you. You could feel your cum leak out of you as jaemin leaned down and began eating away at your cunt.

"J-jaemin! So...go-good!" Your head flew back as his tongue sucked on your clit and a loud moan filled the room.

Jaemin smirked against your heat, "I haven't even fucked you yet and your already sounding like a dumb whore. Its so easy to break you princess."

"N-no its j-ju-...." you whimpered as your brain wasnt even trying to help you function right. His tongue was extraordinary. "Mmmm."

"Aw my dumb little princess is so cute." He muttered diving back into lapping at your soaked cunt. It was almost as if on cue and without warning, you were cumming again. Jaemins hasty tongue took it all. Groaning at the taste of you in his mouth.

He sat up over you, grabbing your neck, pulling you into a deep kiss. You tasted yourself on his tongue. Deepening the kiss by grabbing the back of his hair, jaemin couldnt help but moan a bit as his cock brushed against your thigh. He felt big. Bigger than the few guys you've been with and you were ecstatic.

You tugged on jaemins pants and shirt as a way to tell him to take them off and he did after getting off of you and sitting on the edge of the bed. His abs were more defined than you thought and when his cock sprung free, your mouth started watering. Jaemins smirk only grew watching you stare. He was starting to get cocky

"What? You wanna suck my cock?" Jaemin asked sweetly.

"Yes please." You reached over to try and touch him but he didn't allow you. And smacked your hand away. It was a way for him to tease you and you hated it.

"So kind for nana now. Ealier you were so cock hungry that you decided to be a brat. Did nana finally break you?" Jaemin whispered as he moved a piece of hair out of your face, looking at you with fill admiration.

"No you didn't break me. But I wanna suck you off." You whined as jaemin picked you up and sat you just above his cock, the tip teasing at your entrance.

"Too bad. Now I want you to sit." Jaemin said looking into your eyes. You obeyed with a little hesitation. His cock was surely going to hurt you so you took it slowly and started lowering your hips. "Fuck...thats a good girl." Jaemin praised, watching his cock dissappear between your legs and your tummy get full with his cock. "My baby's so tiny you can see my cock in your belly." He said, pushing down on the area where he was imprinted in you.

Slowly you started moving, lifting your hips up and down. You were wet enough that he could easily slide in and out with no problem.

Jaemins head fell back as he sighed with relief, grunting as you picked up the pace, "So tight for nana." He whispered and you moaned back loudly. His cock stretched every inch of you to the point where it felt like you'd split.

"More more more." You whined against jaemins neck, gripping his shoulders tightly. Carefully jaemin flipped you both over so he was on top and continued pounding into your destroyed cunt. He kept a hand around your neck squeezing it every so often as a choked out moan left your throat.

His cock was so deep and fast that you couldn't think straight. You kept blabbering about his cock. Only thing on your mind was how nice he felt inside you. Jaemin bit his lip as he smirked at you, grabbing your hair and bringing your face close to his, "Now will you admit that I fucked you dumb and say your nanas dumb slut?"

"Y-yes, I'm na-nanas dumb sl-slut." You cried, tears falling down your face from how good he felt inside and if you thought jaemin couldn't go any faster, he did. His thrusts were hard and rough, sure enough to hurt your thighs tomorrow as he pounded relentlessly. "So close." Your voice came out choked as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You held on to jaemins hand that was on your neck as he helped you with your orgasm.

Jaemin wasnt far behind you with his and groaned loudly, "fuck, where do you want it princess?"

"I-inside." You moaned as the feeling of hot cum was shot inside you. Jaemins hips kept moving him through his orgasm until he slowly came to a stop. Both of you panted loudly, there were even a few tears falling down your cheek here and there.

Jaemin slowly pulled out, making sure not to hurt you, and he laid beside you. "You did so well." He kissed your forehead. "Cmon ill carry you to bathroom so we can take a bath." He said picking up your worn out naked figure with so much care. Making you forget he was your enemy.

#nct smut #nct #na jaemin #na jaemin smut #kpop #kpop smut #nct 127 #nct dream #wayv #nct u #jaemin #jaemin nct dream #jaemin nct #nct dream smut #wayv smut #nct 127 smut

[jackrrabbit]

it will come back [pt. 2] /// Yandere Shigaraki x f!Reader

Summary: You have a bad habit of picking up strays, and the half-dead villain you find bleeding out in a dumpster is no exception. [Part 1] [Part 3]

A/N: Title from the Hozier song—“don’t let it in with no intention to keep it / jesus christ, don’t be kind to it / oh honey don’t feed it / it will come back.”

Tags/warnings: yandere, violence (not directed toward reader), crying, Shiggy REALLY likes you, reader needs a friend and a good night’s sleep, non-explicit sexual content. [In later parts: 18+, sex, other stuff]

He—Tomura—keeps visiting.

At first you think it’s because of the free medical care, and you wish you had the spine to tell him to suck it up and go see a professional. After a couple weeks turn into a couple months and his wounds fade into ragged purple scars, though, you start to think differently.

Within a short time Tomura has figured out your work schedule, and he does a decent job of not showing up after your long shifts. The unavoidable consequence of this is that he ends up monopolizing your precious days off, but you come to the realization about a month and a half in that you don’t actually mind. You like it. It’s like spending time with a friend.

Mostly you guys talk. It doesn’t seem like Tomura really has anyone to talk to the way the two of you do, but that’s probably just you projecting. It’s usually shallow stuff—TV shows you like, video games he plays, funny stories from patients you treated. Sometimes when you’re cooking for yourself, you make extra for him. (It happens a lot, actually, and at one point you bring up how much his appetite is costing you and the next time you see him he brings a bag of rice and makes you a porridge that crunches between your teeth when you try to eat it. You can’t finish yours, but he eats an entire bowl and insists that you’re being picky.)

Sometimes he sleeps over on the couch, but he’s always gone when you wake up.

The two of you skirt around the heavier stuff, and you know it’s intentional on his part. You have to resist the urge to ask him about being a villain—he’s all but confirmed it for you, and it’s human nature to be curious, isn’t it? In the same way you can’t help looking at a car crash, you want to poke and prod and find out what it is, exactly, that Tomura does for a living. That part of his life is suspiciously absent from your discussions—if you didn’t know better, you’d think he spends all of his time sleeping and playing games and breaking into your place.

On the other hand, you don’t want to know. Plausible deniability. You can accept criminality in the abstract, but you’ve treated too many victims of the bullshit hero–villain battle to be comfortable really knowing why Tomura avoids public places.

So you don’t ask about it, and Tomura doesn’t tell, and you don’t look up his name. And it’s easy. It’s nice. You’d forgotten what it’s like to come back to a home that isn’t empty.

And then one day when you get off a few hours early from your shift, you stop by a convenience store to pick up some snacks for yourself (hey, you’ve been working hard, you’re entitled to binge a little on foods that you’re afraid to look at the fat content for), and you think, Hm, I wonder if Tomura wants some.

[You: 7:49 PM] > Are you coming over today? [T: 7:49 PM] > Yeah why [You: 7:51 PM] > Getting snacks > Want some? [T: 7:51 PM] > No

[T: 8:12 PM] > When r u coming back to ur place

[T: 8:58 PM] > Hey where are you

[T: 9:39 PM] > (Y/N)?

There’s a man with a gun in the convenience store.

It takes you a second to process at first. You’re standing in the snack food aisle seeking out Oreos and debating the merits of Double Stuf vs. Mega when you catch the mumbled demand and the metallic clicking noise you’ve only ever heard in movies before. It’s a gun—you know that, but your mind dismisses it because it’s ridiculous. Guns are rare in hero society. People don’t go around robbing bodegas at gunpoint anymore.

(You should know better. You work in a goddamn ER. But you compartmentalize, and the crimes you see written across your patients’ bodies stay out of the realm of your personal life because you need them to.)

It’s only when you see the muzzle of a hunting rifle pushed up to the cashier’s sweaty neck that you really understand what’s happening.

You drop to the ground immediately, looking toward the exit but it’s shut and there’s some kind of metal…thing holding the door closed. The cashier mumbles a denial and you can hear him fumble around with the cash drawer for what feels like ages.

It’s real. This is real. You’re in the middle of a robbery. Where are the heroes? Why isn’t anyone doing anything?

God, you’re a hypocrite, cowering behind the aisle divider and waiting for someone to step up while the robber’s demands get increasingly louder and more frantic. He wants money, and the cashier (who, you remember, is a man in his sixties with hands that shake with Parkinson’s when he holds out your receipt) isn’t being fast enough.

“That’s it? There’s no more? Are you fucking kidding me, there’s gotta be a safe or something—“

“No! No, p-please, I’m sorry, this is all I have!”

You cringe, crushing your eyes closed as if that will make it go away. You’re surprised you can hear at all over the sound of your blood rushing in your ears.

“Don’t fuck with me old man, I know there’s more! Show me the safe or I’ll blow your goddamn brains out!”

No! You have to do something. You can’t just sit here. You’ve heard plenty of death threats from your patients (not to mention that one from Tomura), and you know the difference between a bluff and a serious warning. Maybe you can catch the robber off guard, try to pull the gun away? You stand up quickly, hoping against hope that you won’t regret this, but in a split second you see that the cashier has the same idea and he’s trying to pull the rifle out of the robber’s hand and—

BANG.

Something warm and wet splatters across your face.

///

Tomura is angry when you get back to the apartment. As soon as he hears your key in the lock he rises from your couch so he can grab your collar with three fingers, jerking your head up to force you to look at him. “Where have you been? Do you know how long I’ve been waiting—“

But he cuts short in the middle of his sentence. Maybe because he sees the look on your face. Or maybe he just notices the traces of blood you haven’t been able to wipe off.

“What happened,” Tomura says. It’s not a question. He adjusts his grip slightly so it’s not quite as punishing, but you hold still anyway.

You have to force your mouth open in order to speak, but when your voice comes out it’s more steady than you thought it would be. “It’s not my blood. There was a robbery at the store. The cashier got shot.”

“Oh.” He releases you and frowns. “That’s it?”

“Fuck you.” You push past him into the kitchen to get yourself a drink with trembling hands. Pantry’s out of shōchū, whiskey will just make you sicker—ahh, there it is. Baijiu. The glug glug glug of the liquor into the glass does nothing to put your nerves at ease, but you pour yourself a double anyway.

“Wait—wait.” Tomura’s hands twitch and rub over his arms like he’s trying to stop himself from grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking you. “Calm down. Why are you so upset? Don’t you see this stuff every day?”

You do. You’re an ER nurse. There’s no injury you haven’t seen. But it’s not about the blood. “I...I knew him. The cashier. He was nice. He had a grandkid on the way. I—“ You bite your lip and down the baijiu in one gulp. It burns.

Tomura clearly doesn’t know how to comfort you; probably doesn’t even really know why you need to be comforted. What does it mean that death is so meaningless to him? you wonder. But you need someone to listen to you, clueless or not, and Tomura will have to do.

The baijiu is still bitter and hot down your throat when you speak again. “You know something? Know what they asked me when the heroes finally showed up and pulled us out of there, me and the corpse?”

“…What?” Tomura asks warily.

“They stuck a camera in my face and asked me if there was anything I wanted to say to the hero who saved me. Any words of gratitude I wanted to share,” you spit. Now it’s your turn to feel your hands making fists at your sides. Your fingernails scratch into your palms like the pain can be an outlet for the sudden overwhelming fury spilling over you. “They didn’t save him. They were too late.”

Tomura’s eyes widen, and through your curtain of anger you can tell he’s looking at you in a way he’s never looked at you before. It’s unlike him to even look directly at you, and when he does it’s usually in disinterest or half-sincere irritation. This, though…this is different. He’s watching you like a believer watches a prophet. You can tell—or at least some deep, ugly part of you that you hope is wrong can tell—that he’s trying not to smile.

“I hate this,” you say, and the first tear drips out of your eye and runs down your cheek. It’s awful. You don’t want to cry in front of Tomura. You don’t want to show him how weak you are. But before you can wipe it away, Tomura’s hand comes up and does it for you, smearing the tear over your cheek in a gesture that—for him—is oddly tender.

Then he hugs you.

It’s stiff and awkward, like he’s forgotten how to do it, but the intention is clear. His arms fold around your back, pulling you into his chest while his chin makes its way to rest on your shoulder. He’s leaning into you so deeply that your spine is arched back, and you stagger away from him only for him to step closer again to make up the distance.

“It’s not fair, hm,” he murmurs into your hair. His tone is the closest thing to sympathy you’ve ever heard from him, but there’s an undercurrent of excitement you can’t ignore. “They’re always too late, aren’t they? The heroes… And everyone will watch that video of you thanking the heroes, and they’ll think they’re safe too. They’ll keep going about their lives and think that nothing bad can happen to them because a hero will always be around to save them…but you and I know that’s a lie.”

It takes you a second to recognize the emotion that’s raising goosebumps over your arms while Tomura rubs circles into your back, but when it clicks you shiver because it’s fear. You’ve never really been afraid of Tomura before, even when you should’ve been. Does he realize he’s backing you up with how forcefully he’s pushing himself into you? The backs of your knees hit the arm of your couch and you topple onto it with Tomura following.

He holds himself above you on his hands, legs tangled with yours. His eyes are wild and he’s not even trying to suppress his grin now. You’re trapped lying on your back under him—pinned like a butterfly under glass.

“Get off of me,” you say as calmly as you can.

“It’s all a lie, all of it…” A hand comes up and strokes your cheek, rubbing with two fingers at a stray fleck of blood on your neck. “I’m sorry it had to be like this, but I’m so glad you understand…”

“Let me up now, Tomura.”

He holds still for a long moment—waiting, thinking, considering—and then sits up, still straddling you but loosely enough that you can scramble back away from him on the couch. Your heart is racing, but you try to slow your breaths so he doesn’t pick up on how scared you are.

“Don’t freak out. You’re no fun,” Tomura says, and you exhale a sigh of relief at how normal he sounds. You never thought you’d be so happy about him looking at you like you’re nothing.

“I think you should go,” you say carefully.

He rocks back on his heels and runs a hand through his hair. “Are you mad? I thought I could stay here tonight, like usual. Since I waited for so long.”

“I’m not mad. I just…want to be alone.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be alone tonight. Not after what you’ve been through.”

Oh, now you care. “Fine. Okay? Fine. You can sleep on the couch.” You’re too tired to argue any more, and you’ve never really been good at convincing Tomura to do anything he doesn’t want to. It’s a miracle he listened to you when you told him to get off you. Considering how often he breaks into your apartment, it’s not like you could keep him out anyway.

So he stays the night. He doesn’t bother you when you take a shower and go to bed, he just lies on the couch in his street clothes. When you wake up in the morning he’s disappeared like he always does, and for the first time since you met him you’re truly relieved that he’s gone.

///

You always thought it would take some level of courage you don’t possess to actually bite the bullet and look Tomura up. To do so would mean saying goodbye to whatever strange relationship the two of you have built over the months, and you’re just not brave enough to risk it.

Turns out it’s not courage that makes you type his name into the search bar. It’s cowardice. You’re lying in bed under the covers when you do it, and the blue-white screen of your laptop is the only light in the room. Your comforter is pulled up almost over your head like it’s a wall that can block out reality.

“tomura”, you enter into the search bar, but you don’t hit return. Instead, you look at the search suggestions.

> tomura shigaraki > tomura shigaraki league of villains > tomura shigaraki decay

Something about it sounds familiar. But you’re not ready. Still, after everything, you’d rather keep your eyes closed. You backspace and snap your laptop shut, and when you do your room is so dark that you think the emptiness might swallow you up.

///

[T: 5:52 PM] > Are u going to be at home tn

[T: 6:14 PM] > Hey check ur phone

[T: 6:42 PM] > Stop ignoring me > (Y/N) > (Y/N) > (Y/N) > (Y/N) > (Y/N)

[T: 6:46 PM] 3 MISSED CALLS [You: 6:50 PM] > I’m at work [T: 6:50 PM] > Don’t lie > you finished an hour ago

[T: 7:13 PM] 1 MISSED CALL [T: 7:14 PM] > You said you werent mad [You: 7:15 PM] > I’m not [T: 7:15 PM] > Then stop being a brat > im coming over > ill bring takeout

You’re nervous about seeing him, but in the two weeks since he pushed you down on the couch you’ve found yourself…missing him. Like it or not, he’s made himself a fixture in your life. So when you get home you’re brimming with anticipation, wondering who you’ll get when you open the door—the normal Tomura you’ve come to like over the past few months, or the one from that night. The villain.

But it’s just him. Good old Tomura, laden with plastic bags and containers of greasy fast food for the two of you to gorge yourselves on. You tease him for being cheap and he argues that you’re just a snob and everything seems so normal that you can almost forget the look in his red eyes when he told you that you understood.

Almost.

///

You probably have no idea how good you look when you’re crying.

Of the couple thousand views on the news channel video of your “rescue” from the convenience store robber, at least a tenth are from Tomura. Eventually he just downloads the video onto his computer so he doesn’t have to read the inane comments that the other viewers leave on the webpage. It seems like everyone but him thinks you should feel lucky that you were saved by a hero before the robber could get to you, too.

As always, the public are a bunch of shit-soaked morons. Reading the comments makes him angry, so angry he’s tempted to look into a few of these brainless sheep and see how lucky they feel when they’ve caught the attention of a violent criminal. But that wouldn’t be productive, so he saves the video externally and leaves the news website alone. It’s for the best. Besides, seeing the “views” counter on the website tick up and up by the dozen every time he refreshes is just another reminder that other people are watching this; other people are seeing how delicate and vulnerable and pretty you are with tears spilling out of your eyes and the cashier’s blood sprayed over your clothing.

Thousands of useless fucking NPCs are looking at you just like Tomura is. They’re probably thinking about how sweet you look, just like he is. And they’re probably imagining all the ways they can take advantage of your fragile emotional state, just like him.

You’re too trusting for your own good. Tomura used to think it was a virtue, and it is, but only when it comes to him. Whenever he thinks about how your face is slapped over a dozen different news websites for the whole world to see, he has to dig his fingernails into his neck to keep calm. It’s better when he can just watch the video and pretend he’s the only one seeing it.

And it’s not like not watching the video is an option. Tomura can’t resist your crying face. There’s a point around the three minute mark where your voice breaks in the middle of your statement, and sometimes Tomura skips there in the video just so he can hear that pathetic little sob and replay it over and over and over. Maybe it’s sappy, but Tomura really does feel his heart skip a beat at the way your eyes and nose are rubbed red from your misery.

How fucked up is it that he gets off watching you cry?

Would you be angry if you knew? You probably would, but you put up with so much from him already. Maybe you’d be okay with it if he told you he really and truly tried to hold out. The first dozen times Tomura watched the video, he refused to touch himself no matter how tight his pants got while you choked out your stilted answers to the reporters’ questions, but at this point he barely has to click “play” on the video before he gets hard and takes matters into his own hands.

At the end of the day, it’s your fault. Everything about you is so erotic, from your shaky voice to your pouty, bitten-red lips. Isn’t it completely normal to be aroused while looking at the person you like? And Tomura likes you, he really likes you. He doesn’t have any pictures of you, and with the high definition of the news channel’s video he can see every perfect contour of your cheekbones, every pore in your skin, every glistening wet eyelash.

It’s not that Tomura doesn’t feel sympathy for how upset you are in the video. He does! Not even just sympathy, even—he’s empathetic. He knows exactly how it feels to be let down by the heroes. How dare they tell you you need to be grateful while you’re still trying to wipe brain matter off your shirt? Always too little, too late. It’s not fair.

But if he’s being honest? As miserable as you are, Tomura is happy that you were in the store when that robber came in and that you had to watch a man you knew get his brains blown out in front of you. You need a wake-up call to lose faith in hero society. If you have to suffer some emotional trauma in the process, that seems like a fair price to pay.

And the fact that Tomura gets to jerk off to it? It’s almost like destiny.

➠ [Part 3]

#Shigaraki Tomura x reader #bnha x reader #yandere bnha #yandere Shigaraki Tomura x reader #yandere Shigaraki Tomura #0 to 100 real quick? #mha x reader #bnha imagines #Shigaraki x reader #Shigaraki Tomura #bnha #boku no hero academia #boku no hero academia imagines #mha #my hero academia #mha imagines #my hero academia imagines #boku no hero academia x reader #my hero academia x reader #Yandere #yandere bnha x reader #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere boku no hero academia x reader #yandere mha #yandere mha x reader #yandere Shigaraki #yandere Shigaraki x reader

[memeadonna]

Metallica

You are an intern working at Fatgum’s Agency alongside our favourite Hard Himbos: Tetsutetsu and Kirishima. Your quirk allows you to control metal, which attracts the attention of a certain someone. 

Alternatively: I thought Tetsutetsu might have a thing for piercings and then @malicealieness bullied me until I posted this because we Tetsutetsu simps are starved for content (and don’t worry guys she promised to post more of her own writing if I posted this so I’m more than happy to do so (I love you mom ❤️))

Word Count: 5,971

This story is NSFW. Minors DNI. 

Warnings: Switch Tetsutetsu and Reader, Piercings, Size difference/Kink, Mentions of Blood, Biting and Scratching, Loss of Virginity, Vaginal Intercourse, Creampie, mentions of birth control, Tetsutetsu being a Simp, mutual pining, this boy deserves more love. 

Update: Part Two is Out! 

When Tetsutetsu was in his last year at UA, an underclassman joined him and Kirishima at Fatgum’s agency. She was in class 2-A and went by the hero name Metallica. That was you, and you were certain he was terrified of you when you first met. To start with, your quirk was metal manipulation; you could control anything metal and, as the name implies, manipulate it however you’d like – changing its shape, sending it flying, or even adjusting its hardness – and that meant if he were to ever fight with you, he would be at a major disadvantage. It wasn’t like you wanted to hurt him (unless you counted raking your nails down his back and biting his collarbone), but the threat was there. 

Tetstutetsu spent a lot of time staring at you, especially when you were in your hero costume or when the two of you had been left alone for a moment. On the rare occasions you met up with him on campus, he always stared at your piercings while you talked. You had ended up fighting with UA over their dress code: students in the hero course were supposed to be limited to only earrings (which you had several of) and small necklaces as jewelry, but due to your quirk you preferred to wear as much metal as you could. Different metals reacted differently to your quirk, and because of that your piercings, bracelets, and rings had been a mix of many different types that you had painstakingly organized so it was stylish rather than garish. It was hard to pull off so many different colours, but you managed. The school wanted you to only wear the piercings in your earlobes during class (the rings were fine), but after a long argument, you managed to convince them to let you wear something so your holes didn’t close up. The stainless steel you ended up with was much less flashy than the other colours you had had before, but you didn’t mind. It was a versatile metal, and the ability to shape and change it to your will was an asset. Besides that, your piercings were not technically support items, so you could use (and had used) them at the sports festival. 

The first time you met Kirishima and Tetsutetsu, Fatgum had insisted the three of you go out for food together. Kirishima had spent the whole time talking and laughing with you, trying to get to know you, and Tetsu had just spent his time staring like he was in a trance. You were used to people staring – like someone with a mutant quirk, the large number of piercings you wore every day was unusual, and you had gotten used to stares and comments. You tucked your hair behind your industrial and sipped on some boba. His eyes never left your face, scanning over the barbell bisecting your eyebrow then down to the one on your tongue as you took another sip. 

“So, metal,” Kirishima spoke, kicking Tetsutetsu under the table and shooting him a glare that said Pay Attention. “Tell us about that.” 

You waved your hand, the ring on your index finger unwrapping itself and forming into a bowl shape. You concentrated as it dipped into your parfait and brought a delectable scoop of vanilla ice cream up to your mouth and took a bite. Tetsutetsu’s brain was all but short-circuiting as you casually dunked the ring into your untouched glass of water and wrapped it back around your finger. As you explained how your quirk worked to his companion, all he could think about was being bent to your will like that. His legs felt weak and shaky, and he was so, so glad you were all sitting in a dark restaurant. 

He seemed skittish around you – never wanting to be alone with you, always fidgeting when you used your quirk. Even Fatgum noticed his strange behaviour and pulled you aside to ask if anything was wrong. You felt so guilty as he asked you if the two of you had had a falling out and what he could do to help – was the transition into working at his agency smooth? Were you happy in the position? Why does one of his interns hate you? He hadn’t asked that of course, but the question was there. 

In the end, you had cornered your colleague. “I’m not going to hurt you,” you had told him softly. “I don’t think my quirk would even work on you. I don’t want to find out though, because if it did hurt you, I don’t think I could forgive myself.” You told him. “I want to be your friend, Tetsutetsu. I don’t want you to be scared of me.” 

Scared? It had taken him almost ten entire seconds to process this as you tried to make yourself look as nonthreatening as possible. “I – I’m not scared of you,” he had answered dumbly. 

Your friendship blossomed from there. He had to hide a boner whenever you used your quirk in front of him (which was a lot, you tended to overuse it if anything), but now he got to see you smiling and make you laugh, which melted his steel heart every time. He felt extraordinarily guilty whenever he’d sneak off to the bathroom, shove his shirt into his mouth, and beat his dick like it owed him money. This resulted in more than one shredded shirt and several raised eyebrows from Kirishima, but he learned to pack a spare change of clothes in his bag. At least his frantic two-minute tangos were almost enough to get him through patrol with you. Almost. 

His situation became more difficult when the agency was working towards a major drug bust. You and your coworkers were excused from school for two weeks and were living out of the agency’s basement. There were three rooms set up there – one for Fatgum with a massive bed, and one for each off-duty intern. Someone was supposed to be patrolling at all times, and all four of you were feeling exhausted. Esuha was not a horribly busy city, but as the dealers you were after were backed more and more into a corner, they began to lash out and take matters into their own hands. 

Tetsutetsu was so ready to slide into a comfortable pair of pyjamas, eat a quick dinner and pass out, but the zipper on his hero suit was stuck. Of course it was. Kirishima had taken up residence in the room Fatgum normally slept in, and was snoring loudly, so he shuffled his way over to your door and reluctantly knocked. 

You answered the door after a few moments, wearing only a tight tank top and a set of loose pyjama shorts. You were rubbing sleep from your eyes, and if he wasn’t so hyper-focused on what he was sure was the outline of a set of nipple piercings through your tanktop he would have felt bad for waking you. “Zipper,” he said quickly, fighting to tear his eyes from your chest. “My zipper is stuck.” 

You reached out your hand and activated your quirk, but frowned slightly. “Your zipper is plastic. Wonder what moron made that design choice. If it gets too hot, it’ll melt,” He was about to agree, but then your hands were on him and he was so, so thankful it was plastic. “Come over here, the light is better.” Your hands unclasped the steel straps across his shoulders, and you used your quirk to send it across the room to rest gently on your nightstand as you worked to get him out of his jumpsuit. He barely registered the door closing and the sound of the lock sliding into place as his brain once more began to short circuit. 

You pressed closer to see the zipper better, which only gave Tetsu a great view down your shirt. He had to be hyper aware of his hands, so he didn’t accidentally touch you. He was a gentleman, after all. He had to be a gentleman, even when you once more tugged him towards yourself to get him closer to the light on your desk. Yup. Had to be a gentleman. 

You continued to fiddle with the zipper, tugging it this way and that. You stuck out your tongue and dragged it backwards along your lip so the little ball on it clacked against your teeth, and he had to physically stop himself from letting out an unmanly noise. 

You triumphantly grinned as you finally got the zipper unstuck, and then your tongue was back in your mouth. “I think the fabric got caught in the teeth!” you told him with a grin. “It was no match for me.” he was so close to you now. You were all but pressed against the wall by him, and as you looked up into his eyes, a lazy smirk crept its way onto your face. “What? Embarrassed that you had to ask me to help you out of your clothes? Aren’t you at least going to say thank… you…” your voice trailed off as he leaned in closer, one arm bracing himself against the wall above you. You weren’t a small person, but he had hit a growth spurt in his time at UA and was now almost 6’6. He made you feel small. 

He didn’t lean in to kiss you like you hoped thought he would but instead leaned over to your ear. As you felt his lips ghosting against the shell of your ear and his warm breath prickling the hairs on the back of your neck, you felt your heart fluttering in your chest. “Do you have any idea how much you make me want you?” he growled out, voice gravelly and low. “Are you doing it on purpose?” he pulled your earlobe and the trio of studs it housed into his mouth, and you had to place your hands on his shoulders to stop your knees from buckling. 

He was so warm as his tongue teased at your earlobe and one hand came up to run itself up your side, splaying itself over your ribs before slowly trailing upwards. “Well, this is one way to thank me,” you smirked to yourself as he pulled away, snapped out of his trance. “Not even going to kiss me first? No, you’ve just gotta fondle my piercings, don’t you? You have such a one-track mind.” 

You ran your hands up from his shoulders to his hair, pulling him closer and standing on your tiptoes to kiss him. It wasn’t heated or anything, just a simple brush of your lips against his. He leaned into it, and for the briefest moment, as you pulled away, he chased your lips. He caught himself as he did, a bright blush spreading over his cheekbones. “I’m sorry, I-” 

You kissed him once again to shut him up, deep and slow and filled with passion. He relaxed above you, letting himself become putty in your hands and against your lips, pushing his body flush with yours and pinning you to the wall. He was strong enough to keep you there – he could easily snap your neck if he wanted – but the way he held you was so gentle. Like you would break if he wasn’t careful. 

That was nice, but it wasn’t what you wanted. You bit his lip which made him yelp and took the momentary parting of his lips to conquer his mouth, tugging his hair as you took control. He let out a sweet little whine as he felt the barbell against his tongue. He wrapped his arms around you and lifted you off the ground, holding you by the ass and thighs as he stumbled backwards towards the bed, kissing you more and more frantically. As you wrapped your legs around his body you felt him throbbing against the soft skin of your inner thigh and smirked triumphantly to yourself. He sat down on your bed and you peeled his jumpsuit off, grinding down into his lap as you kissed. 

Once the fabric was pooling around his waist, he flipped you over onto the bed, pinning you beneath his hulking form. “You’re awfully bold,” he rumbled. “Thinking you can get off domming me.” 

He kissed you deeply, a rolling kind of pleasure that made your knees weak and your toes curl. A wave of desire swept you away and made you almost forget your name. Then, you remembered you were Metallica and you had a series of bracelets on your nightstand. Maybe it was time to put them to good use. 

He was back to mouthing at your ear and teasing your numerous piercings, then trailing his hot mouth down your neck, before grazing sharp fangs along your collarbone. You squealed as he gripped the collar of your tanktop in his teeth and ripped it violently off of your body. The animalistic look in his eyes sent a lightning bolt of pleasure through you, and his hands left your wrists to rip the remaining shreds of your top off of your body. He sat back to admire you, letting out a quiet “Fuck” as he took you in. 

He was right, you had a set of matching barbells in your nipples, but he hadn’t known about your belly button piercing. It was one of the more basic piercings, but he seemed enraptured by it for a moment before his hands reached out to cup greedy handfuls of your breasts. One of your bracelets clicked around his right wrist and yanked his arm upwards, sending his body crashing down onto yours. You giggled at the “oof” he let out, and wrapped your arms and legs around him, mouthing at his ear. “I am bold. That’s why you like me,” you held his cheeks in your hands and gave him a commanding kiss before returning to his ear to whisper: “I’m also going to get off with your pretty mouth.” as you sank your teeth into the shell of his ear he full out moaned. What a glorious sound that was. You formed your bracelets into hooks to pull off his boots and his hero suit, careful not to tear it. He did need the thing after all. 

Pressed up against you like this, he could feel the rise and fall of your chest as you breathed, and also the drag of cold metal across his body. He began to kiss and suck at your neck and shoulders, relieved that the bodysuit you wore under the armour of your hero costume would hide this come tomorrow. He resisted the urge to sink his teeth into your warm flesh. That was probably too much for your first night but in the future…

Yielding his right arm to you, he used his left to finally grab one of your breasts and caress the barbell with the pad of his thumb. He felt you shift underneath him, and then your thigh was between his legs and he allowed himself to hump it out of desperation. “God you are such a needy bitch,” you laughed into his ear. “Do you really want me this much?” 

You were winning. You were winning and he knew it. But if there was one thing Tetsutetsu was, it was hard-headed. In more than one sense of the word. He redoubled his efforts on your collarbones, leaving dark hickies that would probably take days to fade. You raked your nails down his back to get a reaction and he bit you. Hard. The strangled wail you let out was more than enough to make him come back to his senses and he pulled away with a hundred apologies on his lips. “I didn’t mean to-” 

“Fuck that was hot. Yes please, more,” you sat up with him and gave him a kiss, ignoring the taste of your blood on his tongue. The feeling of your tongue piercing against him once more made him lightheaded, especially as he felt your bracelets closing around his neck like a collar. You pulled away from the heated kiss with a sly smirk, your lips just barely grazing his as you murmured: “You want to act like a dog then I’ll treat you like one.” 

His response was to lift you up a bit so he could get his mouth around one of your nipples. You squirmed in his arms, letting out breathy groans, tugging at his hair and struggling to keep hold of your quirk. He switched breasts, falling backwards so you were on top of him. One hand grabbed the meat of your ass and as you finally released your psychic grip on the bracelet restraining his other hand he was squeezing and fondling the tit he had just been sucking. It was like he couldn’t get enough of your body, and that thought made you gush.

He pulled away from you, grinning triumphantly. “Not so tough now, are you?” he teased, pulling you into another kiss as his big hands roamed your body, squeezing and touching and sometimes just holding certain parts of you. You couldn’t help but feel grounded and safe in his arms, even though you were still bleeding from the shoulder. The warm, fuzzy feeling of safety spread across your body, mixing with arousal, and you smiled into the kiss because he was yours. 

Fucking finally. 

You then squealed as he ripped your shorts in half, tearing the thin fabric off of your thighs and laughing to himself as you slapped his chest. You pulled back to pout at him. “You asshole I liked those!” 

“Fuck, baby,” he answered, hands exploring the newly exposed skin. “I’ll buy you new ones to show you just how sorry I am.” Based on that grin, the amount was zero. You rolled your hips down into his just to wipe that smug look off of his face, and the way he gripped your body to help you made sparks dance inside of your core. You could feel him throbbing against your sex, and based on what you could feel pressing up into you, you were almost sure you would be sore tomorrow. 

You made a show of crawling down his body and snapping the waistband of his briefs against his toned stomach. You peeled the garment off and tossed it over your shoulder. In the two seconds you were turned away the smug bastard had folded his hands behind his head and had leaned back into your pillows like he was presenting himself to you. 

Your eyes took in his muscular frame, sweeping from his toned arms down to the throbbing cock between his legs. You tapped the tip. “This is bullshit,” you told him. 

“What?” his brows furrowed. “Bullshit?” 

You nodded. “Yeah, what exactly I supposed to do with this? It’s as thick as my wrist what the fuck. Can it even fit in my mouth? Of course you would have a magnum dong,” you rolled your eyes at him as you pressed a kiss to his tip, wrapping your hands around it. “Fucking bullshit. You’re lucky I brought lube.” 

As he processed your words you licked his tip, and that damned piercing grazed his sensitive skin, drawing a strangled gasp out of his lungs. You smirked up at him, giving him another slow lick as you showed off the tongue piercing. He spread his legs a bit and bit his lip, closing his eyes as he slipped one hand into your hair. “You’re good at that,” he mumbled, pleasure washing over him as you finally slipped him into your mouth and gave him an earnest suck. He was absolutely mesmerized by his cock disappearing into your mouth, and the position of your body between his legs (face down ass up – something he hoped to explore more later). 

You worked more and more of him down your throat. You reached over and tugged his hand away from his body to bring it gently over your head. You winced as he stretched your throat open for himself, moaning happily as you gagged around him. “Shit, sweetheart…” he let you pull off of him and a hot bolt of guilt shot through his chest as you coughed. “Princess, did I hurt you?” 

After coughing a bit more you offered him a sweet grin. “I’m okay, just-” you coughed again, “-your stupid horsecock is too big for me to blow.” 

“Oh,” he turned bright red. “Sorry.” 

“I have another idea,” you grinned at him, taking his free hand and kissing his fingers before pinning it back behind his head. “Harden it.” 

“What?” his eyes widened and his cock visibly throbbed. “O-okay.” He obeyed you, and you licked your lips as you watched the grey steel colour spread across his dick. It was pretty, which was a weird way to think about a dick. It was also way too thick, and you were sure was going to mess up your insides, which only made you want him more. 

You raised your hand over him and met his eyes. “Tell me how this feels,” you told him. He nodded at you, and you activated your quirk. His heavy eyelashes fluttered as his back arched, and his breathing picked up speed. 

“Tetsu, baby, talk to me,” you cooed. 

“Feels good!” he moaned, spreading his legs more. “So good!” 

His eyes were all but rolling back into his head as you played with him, and his cock pulsed hard beneath your ministrations. It was almost strange, really, because normally when you manipulated metal it was obeying you and nothing more. With Tetsutetsu, you could feel his nerves lighting up with pleasure, and you smirked to yourself as you twisted your wrist to make him vibrate. He let out a loud moan as you did, and you giggled to yourself. 

He squirmed more as you stroked him with your psychic grip, careful not to change his shape. Lord knows that would happen if you did that. “Gonna cum!” he moaned, back arching. “Fuck, what are you doing to me Sweetheart?” you looked up at him, at how wanton he was for you, and your insides clenched around nothing. 

You straddled him and leaned up to kiss him again. “I’m ruining you,” you answered lowly. “You’re mine from now on.” 

You could feel how his throbbing changed as he came. You felt the thick streams painting your ass and back, and smirked to yourself. He arched up into you and moaned loudly, before slumping backwards, limbs jelly, and panting loudly. “Fuck,” he moaned. “Sorry.” 

You reached down to yourself and gathered some of your slick on your fingers. You spread them for him, showing off how wet you were. “Looks like we both enjoyed that,” you told him, watching as his eyes widened once more. He leaned upwards desperately, and you watched in amusement as he sucked your fingers into his mouth. You once more clenched around nothing, and the slick between your legs only got slicker. You wondered if you could take him with how wet you were. 

Probably not, but you wanted to try. 

Once your fingers were clean you leaned down to give him a kiss, your hands gently tracing themselves over his pecs and down his abs. He had released his hardening after he had finished, but he was still hard beneath you as you continued kissing him, your tongue piercing clacking against his teeth every so often. You slid back down his body and he reached his free hand out to cup your ass. “You’re covered in it, baby,” his voice was gruff and husky. 

You brought his massive hand up to your mouth and then it was your turn to suck his fingers clean. He watched you with hooded eyes, and as you pinned his wrist behind his head alongside his other one, he watched you with growing trepidation. You were also a little nervous – would he even fit? You should probably stretch yourself out first, but it just looked so delicious to you. You wanted to feel him. Now. 

You wrapped one hand around his thick shaft and guided the tip up to your lips. You were so slick it was practically gushing out of you, and as you ran his head along your lips and thought “I’m going to take all of this,” your lust only grew. 

You started to lower yourself down onto him, holding him steady. The pressure of him trying to push inside gave way little by little, and he threw his head back with a ragged moan as you slid the tip inside. It was so thick it was hard for you to breathe, but the stretch felt euphoric. You coaxed more of him into you, bit by bit, but stopped suddenly and pulled off. You used a bracelet to bring over your lube bottle and you squirted a generous amount onto his cock. 

“Where do you get off on having such a stupidly huge dick?” you asked him. “Are you trying to split me in half?” 

“You’ll learn to take it,” he purred at you, and that thought made you clench once more. You imagined him one day effortlessly able to slide it inside of your ruined pussy, imagined how the stretch would burn so good as you eased him back into you. You could feel him tugging against his restraints like he wanted to grip your hips and help you. You braced yourself against his pecs as you sank further down onto him, and he grinned smugly at your efforts. “Your face is so fuckin’ cute when you’re stuffed too full.” He purred, groaning as you sat back up and slid him in once again. “Not even halfway down yet and you already look like you’re about to break.” 

“In your dreams,” you teased back, riding him slowly as you slid his too-big dick further and further inside. Your body swallowed him up like it was made to, and the stretch burned the way you had hoped it would. He was quite a bit bigger than the toy you normally used on yourself, and you wondered briefly if you should get a new one to train your body better. You raked your nails down his chest and slid a bit further down. “Just shut up and enjoy this.” 

He looked down and watched his dick disappearing inside of you, and licked his lips. Even with all of that lube, you were still the tightest thing he had ever felt, so tight he could barely move. Even tighter than he had imagined. As he watched you take him, he noticed the slightest tinge of red on his dick. As he realized it was blood, he was not proud that his first thought was to thrust up and ram as much of himself as he could inside of you. You let out a choked sound and clenched around him, scrambling for something to hold onto. “Fuck baby, you okay?” he asked, apologies tumbling out of his mouth in a borage. “You’re bleeding, did I hurt you?” 

You had released your psychic grip as you lost focus, and he was instantly up with his arms around you, peppering your face with kisses. “I’m sorry princess,” he cooed, running his hand down your back. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah,” you answered, looking down between the two of you. “Just surprising. Guess that was my hymen breaking or something.” 

He thrust up into you as you said that, once more attacking your neck with bites and hickies as he carefully rocked your bodies together. He growled at you as you tugged on his hair and let out a strangled sound. He rolled you over, so he was on top, and kissed you hard as you wrapped your legs around him. The drag of his cock inside of you hit all of your nerves at once, and in this position, you were almost certain you couldn’t push him off even if you wanted to. 

You once more restrained him, pinning his hands on either side of your head and using his bracelet-collar, brought his face down to you. You kissed him sloppily, once more tugging on his hair as he moaned and panted into your mouth and sucked on your barbell. The feeling of being stuffed beyond what your body could take was absolute euphoria, and as your toes curled and you held on tightly, moaning as he kissed and bit you, you knew you would have to do this again. “Princess,” he cooed. “You feel so good! Fuck!”

“Y-you too,” you hissed, scratching at his back. He tugged at his restraints once more, but as you held his hands firm you smirked up at him. “What’s wrong, want to touch me?” you slid your hands down your body and began to tease your clit, back arching as he sped up his thrusts. 

“The things I’m going to do to you,” he growled. “Gonna make every inch of you mine!” he carefully lowered his body so he was in a push-up position over you, and lavished your breasts with his tongue, sucking on your nipples like he was trying to pull out your barbells. He worked them with his tongue, which made you moan and keen and scratch. You could feel his arms shaking with the effort of holding himself up, and at the same time felt the drag of his abs against the back of your hand with every thrust. You used your free hand to tangle in his hair, and he bit down again as if on instinct. You let out a surprised yelp and he kissed your sensitive flesh as an apology, licking at the little beads of blood he had left on one of your breasts. Your cunt clenched around him as you heard the gravelly noises he was making, although he was stretching you so open you weren’t even sure it could be called clenching. You were too overstuffed and it was everything you had ever wanted. 

“Please,” he groaned. “Please let me fucking touch you. I need-” he cut himself off as he kissed you once again, sloppy and full of passion. “-I’m gonna cum. Need you to first…” you released his hands and he was immediately pulling you up into his lap, kneeling on your bed and bouncing you on his dick while he kissed you hard. Your legs were too high off the mattress to kneel on it, so you settled for wrapping them around his waist instead. He slid a hand over your abdomen. “I can feel myself!” he growled, pressing down. “Right here.” You kissed him back, moaning because you could feel it too. Feel him destroying your insides. 

His fingers found your clit and roughly began to abuse it. He was so hot inside of you, pulsing like he was happy to be there. You panted against one another, lips connecting and sliding apart as he bounced you for all you were worth. It was wild, it was feral, and he was grunting like a caveman as he claimed you. You gripped his muscular shoulders desperately, looking up into his eyes as he smirked down at you. He kissed you again, long and hard and slow, and you felt his tongue turn to steel in your mouth. You tightened your grip on his shoulder, activating your quirk on him. 

The change swept across his entire body, including his dick, and as he jackhammered even faster into you, you manipulated his body to send twinges of pleasure zinging through him. You could just about hear his thoughts, every “Yes!” “Good!” and “More!” and then the word “Mate!” popped into your mind and you once again clenched hard around him. 

He let you fall backwards a bit, once more kissing at your chest as he fucked your plaint body. Your back arched from the new angle, and you gripped at him desperately, insides twitching as they waited for that last push over the edge. You trusted him to hold you and released your death grip on his shoulders, splaying your hands in the air and making his entire body rapidly vibrate. That feeling threw you into an orgasm almost instantly, and your insides clenched around him. You leaned backwards and he held you close. It was so intense you couldn’t even scream. All you could do was lie there stiffly, unable to even breathe as the feeling washed over you. He kept fucking you through it, burying his teeth in your shoulder once again as he pumped you full. As you came down from your high, you gasped for breath and wrapped your arms around him once again. You kissed him desperately as he held you, and as he leaned back into your pillows he kept you in his arms, his cock still buried deep inside of you. You panted against him, aftershocks making your pussy twitch around him. 

The metal beneath your fingers softened to skin, and he ran his fingers gently through your hair. “Fuck me,” he croaked. 

“What, again?” you laughed a bit, drunk on the euphoria flowing through your body as you reached up to kiss him again.

“I should get my zipper stuck more often,” he grinned, running his fingers gently over the bite on your shoulder. “Does it hurt?” 

“A bit, but I like it,” you looked at him flirtatiously, before lifting yourself on shaky limbs and reaching down to pull him out of you. The wet Schluck! sound made both of you giggle, and so did the wet slap of his softening dick hitting his abs. 

He let out a gasp as his cum began to pour out of you now, dripping heavily all over him. “Fuck, we didn’t use condoms!” he looked absolutely mortified. 

“Relax,” you gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ve got an IUD.” 

He pulled you back down to rest on his chest, tracing patterns into your skin. His eyes drifted from the piercings in your ear down your jawline and up to your lips, and he gently ran his thumb over them. “You’re my girlfriend now, right?” 

“Mhm,” you mumbled sleepily, nuzzling further into his chest. 

He resisted the urge to do a happy dance or pump his fist in the air. “We should get cleaned up,” he kissed your shoulder as he sat up and carried you to the western-style shower. You clung to him as he turned it on, and finally put your feet down as the water warmed. 

You removed the bracelets from around his wrists and neck very carefully, and as you smiled up at him, he smiled back. He then blasted you full in the face with the showerhead and the two of you were giggling again. He washed your body carefully, reverently, and even somehow made hosing you out with the shower head feel intimate. 

By the time you were done with your shower, you were putting on your hero costume to go out for your patrol. He helped you zip up your padded bodysuit, and his dick stirred back to life beneath his towel as you gently draped your armour-esque hero costume over your body. “You should go rest in your own room, Fatgum will get suspicious,” you gave him a kiss and used your quirk to slide his hero suit onto him, doing up the zipper with a flick of your finger. 

“H-huh?” he stared down at it as you clasped his chest straps. “But I thought the zip was plastic!” 

You chuckled a bit. “How else was I supposed to get you alone in my room?” you teased, before offering a wink and slipping out the door. 

“Clever girl,” he whispered to himself, grinning like a moron. 

Taglist: @malicealieness 

(If you would like to be added to the Taglist, please send me an ask :D)

#bnha x reader #bnha fanfiction #bnha #tetsutetsu #bnha tetsutetsu #tetsutetsu x reader #reader insert #mha reader insert #tetsutetsu tetsutetsu #Memeadonna #Tetsutetsu is a simp #I will die on this hill

[blush-and-books]

sun's gone // but you always liked this time of day

angsty, hurt/comfort with a happy ending, juke canonverse. title from Place In Me by Luke Hemmings. special shoutout to my dear @unsaid-emily who loves this lyric as much as i do.

warnings: luke is just going through a lot and its scientifically proven that anger destroys brain cells so just be ready

----

Finding out that Rose's death day was on the same day as his mom's birthday was... Not easy, for Luke.

Him and Julie both mourning different things. Both of them felt different things surrounding their mom situations, and Luke knew that his job as Julie's "Luke" was to be there for her. He had been there for Reggie when his dad was leaving home every night to go sleep wherever his mom wasn't, and when Alex's parents turned into apathetic losers post-coming out.

He should be a master at all of this parent shit.

Unfortunately, there's a difference between losing love for or from your parents, and losing that parent to a force out of your control. Luke was used to the tension that was easy to complain about; to criticizing what his friends' families were doing wrong.

From how Julie talks about her, it doesn't sound like Rose Molina was doing anything wrong.

He can't help the way that rage smolders in a deep pit of his stomach. He hates that Julie's sad, and he hates that he didn't have a mom like Rose Molina, and he hates that the universe was cruel enough to give his favorite person such a wonderful mother and take her away before Julie was even an adult.

Sometimes, especially today, he's reminded of the hate he felt for his mom. When he was fifteen and wrote her a real song, one of his first when he started to improve his writing skills, and he could see the twitch in her eye of disdain.

That night, she told him to start looking at jobs. He was old enough, after all.

He went to the closest place he could find - a local diner - picked up an application, and cried.

She didn't care about his art; she didn't realize how his art meant more than anything he could buy with money. What was starting to sting was the fact that she probably would never care. And as he got older, she made it increasingly clear, and...

Yeah. Emily's birthdays were bitter.

Luke was bitter.

Julie was depressed.

He went to see her that day, it was a Saturday, and tried to talk to her. His hand softly ran up and down her side as she curled under the comforter, and when she invited him under the blankets he gratefully accepted the invitation.

Maybe Julie, the girl that made them whole again, could heal this little extra wound, too.

They talk. Julie cries; he avoids it.

"It's just really hard to be without her, you know? Sometimes shit just happens and it feels like a time she needs to be here, and she's not, and I don't know what to do."

Luke misses feeling like that. But it stopped about a month after he left home.

"Well, I mean, I've gone this long without a mom, and I'm fine. You can live without her. You're gonna be fine."

He says it with the same apathetic tone he always uses when he shifts into Emily-mode, and it isn't supposed to be like that, but it is.

Painfully.

And his mistake is obvious when Julie's frowning lips part open in horror, and her eyes are welling fresh with tears that illuminate the red around her irises.

Carelessly, with his eyes wide open, he's torn her apart.

Under the comforter, he feels cold. Even Julie's body next to him feels cold, and-

"Julie-"

"Get out. Please."

"I'm sor-"

"Luke, please- Leave me alone."

When Luke finally sobs, he's alone. It's dark outside and the garage is empty because the boys respect that it's a rough day for many people in this household, but the sadness and anger overcome him until he's opening his mouth to scream and nothing comes out, and when he's so dehydrated that his body is void of any tears, he sits on the couch with a damp face and plucks the chords of Emily's birthday song from 27 years ago.

He tries not to feel the numbing depression very often. But you can only push down such strong emotions for so long before they choose to ignore your fighting attempts.

Julie made it easier to battle the fury he felt towards his mom. That woman will always have a grasp on him, a place in him - probably because he never properly processed it. He's stuck with all of it now. The internal playlists of songs that remind him of how mad he is or sad he is, for him to listen to whenever his temper towards Emily seethes.

Tonight, he doesn't have a choice but to face it.

----

The next morning, there's a note for him.

Please give me the day to myself.

No author claims their identity, but the loopy "y" is a dead giveaway that Julie wrote it, let alone the content. His chest does that shitty thing where his ribs feel as though they are compressing against his lungs and breathing is hard.

He feels like that all day, but he still waits.

But he barely makes it to sunset before he is poofing to the hallway and standing before her bedroom, fist raised to knock.

The sunset was pretty tonight. He hopes she enjoyed it. Her favorite time of day is dusk, when the air only feels fresher because it carries a chill with it, and the world begins to slow down.

Luke knocks.

Julie answers.

"I'm sorry," he rushes out before she has the chance to interrupt or he has the chance to say something stupid. "What I said- That was my stupid, stupid anger at my mom. It was her birthday yesterday." Julie looks surprised to hear this, of course she didn't know, but she doesn't say anything.

"I don't know what it's like to go through what you did. I wanted to support you yesterday, and I didn't, and I know that. My feelings got the better of me, and that isn't fair. And I am so, so sorry, Julie."

She remains still in front of him, but only for a beat. Eventually, she moves aside, wordlessly, and stares at him expectantly.

He takes exactly four steps inside, and plants his feet once again.

"It's not stupid," is the first thing she says. Her voice has a piercing edge to it that he rarely hears, and he hates it, but stays quiet. "How you feel about your mom. Don't call it stupid. I don't think it's stupid."

She takes a deep breath. A tear slips through her lashes.

"But what you said was really fucking insensitive. All I needed from you was to be there and hold me and let me ride this wave, not try to relate or compare our problems. How would you feel if I tried to guilt you for running away because 'at least you had a mom'?"

Shitty. He'd feel shitty, because they are two different situations and she has no right to speak on something that she hasn't gone through.

He answers with that, verbatim. And he throws in another apology for good measure, making it clear that he understands where he went wrong.

"Good. You understand. Thank you."

Her eyebrows twist together. It's a tell that she wants to say something too.

"If you ever need to talk about your mom, you know I'm here for it. I didn't know her birthday was yesterday."

Understanding, he nods. He didn't tell her it was Emily's birthday, because the day was supposed to be about Rose, and then it wasn't.

"Thank you."

The two of them fall silent.

Luke doesn't want to leave, but feels like he should; Julie hasn't asked him to leave, but he doubts she wants him to stay.

They're just two kids with gaps in their hearts, left by the absence of their mothers.

Sometimes - all the time - Luke feels Julie filling that gap. Not as a mom, of course, but as another person; someone to love him and support him and make him happy.

Emily might not ever go away in his head. But Julie Molina, over anyone, will always have a place in his heart, in his head, and in his soul.

She's just magic like that.

So magic that she finds it in herself to step forward, and he is roped in by her gravitational pull, and they're falling into each other's arms.

Luke imagines that if he ever went to a heaven instead of coming back to the modern day, that this, Julie's arms around him, is the feeling that would greet him at that end.

Everything feels better here.

----

tags: @bluefirewrites @lydias--stiles @sylphrenas @wlwcarries @ruzek-halstead @willexx @sirena-de-lunas @babydagger28 @phantomsandsunsets

#jatp #juke #julie molina #luke patterson #julie and the phantoms #jatp fanfic #juke fanfic

[allegra-writes]

"Bad Together"

Part I: Contact

Peter Parker x Reader

Teen and up

Warnings: language, UST.

"Baby, I'm preying on you tonight

Hunt you down, eat you alive

Just like animals"

Animals - Maroon 5

“Hey kid! Rough night? You look like shit…” 

You sighed, turning away from your door to face your neighbour. Had it been anyone else, you would just have given them the finger and gotten inside your apartment. But not her. Not when she could have information for you.

“Gee, thanks Jess! You do know how to sweet talk a girl.” 

The seemingly -deceptively- fragile brunette’s eyeroll could have rivaled your own signature one, as she kicked away from the wall and crossed the hallway in your direction.

“As if sweet talking would work on you…”

Despite your exhaustion and bad mood, you managed to munster a small sad smile as your mind wandered unbidden to another time, to what felt like another life. 

And to a boy with warm brown eyes and even warmer skin. 

"You'd be surprised…"

Jessica raised a questioning eyebrow, but you just shook your head.

"I have your payment, if that's what you're looking for…"

You said, changing the subject. Her face fell, causing your heart to drop to your stomach. You knew that look. The regret in her green eyes, the pity. You knew what she was going to say even before she opened her mouth. It wasn't really surprising after all: fourteen months without any clues, without any new developments or witnesses? She wanted to drop the case.

"Listen, kid-" 

"No" you cut her off, your voice breaking no arguments, "whatever you're going to say, I won't accept it. I pay you, and you keep on looking for my sister. That's how this works. Let's not fuck this beautiful friendship of ours up." 

You added, only partly sarcastic. You were perfectly aware that, as closed off and damaged as you both were, you were probably the closest thing to a friend either of you had. 

And, for her part, Jessica knew that, if she didn't do the dirty work for you, you would be the one crawling up vents and climbing up balconies, sliding your way into seedy bars and even seedier alleys. You were stubborn like that. And truth be told, she had grown a little protective of you.

She pursed her lips, the wheels turning inside her head. 

"Well then," she finally proposed, "What about you pay me when I actually find something worth paying for?"

It took your drowsy brain a moment to process her words. You were ashamed of the moisture that found its way to your eyes, the knot in your throat that didn't allow you to let out anything more than a weak "Jessica" as a reply. But you were too worn out to be able to keep the emotions at bay. It had been too long since anyone had shown you that type of kindness, gratefulness was not something you were used to feeling. 

"I'm not giving up on the case," she promised, "but I'm not taking your money anymore. At least not until I deserve it."

She was telling the truth, you knew her enough to be able to tell that. If anything, she was going to work even harder to try and get the investigation moving.

"Thank you." 

You really meant it.

"Don't mention it” she shrugged, downplaying it, like every good deed she made. "Now get inside and get some sleep. You look dead." 

You did roll your eyes at that, missing her affectionate smirk as you disappeared through the door, muttering a laconic. "Yes, mom."

The darkness and quiet that greeted you inside your apartment felt like a soothing balm to your over stimulated mind, a much needed respite after your long, adrenaline filled evening. That was why you didn't even bother to turn the lights on as you let your backpack fall anywhere on the tile floor, stepping out of your sneakers and pulling your shirt over your head. 

The cold early morning breeze sent goosebumps along your skin, bringing your attention to the open window. 

You froze. You were always very careful not to let any windows open, Hell's Kitchen was a tough neighbourhood for a spoiled cat like your Selina to be out and about. 

A flash of movement at the corner of your eye was all you needed before your senses went haywire again, instinct kicking in as you jumped high in the air to twirl and land a kick to the back of whoever was in your apartment. But the intruder was expecting it, dodging just in time and turning around to block your punch. Getting a hold of your wrist, the dark figure twisted and pulled you forwards until you fell, back flushed against his chest as he wrapped his arms around yours in a vice-like grip, effectively immobilizing you.

"Easy there, Smokey." A way too familiar voice breathed against your ear, "you're going to hurt yourself." 

You stopped struggling against his grasp. Right. Of course it was him.

"Peter?"

His grip grew tighter for a moment, before letting go.

"Hello, Y/N."

Just like that, it all came back to you: The memories you had tried to repress, the feelings you had tried so hard to bury, washing over you like a flood, a tsunami hitting you hard enough to knock the breath out of your lungs once again. As you took an unsteady step away from him, you prayed that Peter hadn't noticed. 

"What are you doing here?"

"Nice place," Peter ignored your question, choosing to casually pace your living room instead. "Bit of a downgrade from the upper west side, though…"

"Fine," you scoffed, turning to him, "you wanna do small talk? Let's do small talk: what’s with the edgelord look?" You pointed at his tar-black suit. 

"Biotech," the suit retracted from his face and head, reminding you of the nanobots suit he used to wear before Dr. Octopus destroyed it. "Do you like it?" 

You shrugged,

"Stark industries?"

He shook his head. 

"Horizon Lab."

Well, that was interesting. You knew the little, independent company owned by one of his ex-girlfriends had helped him manufacture a couple of special suits developed from his very own webs, after his emancipation from the Starks. But you had no idea they had reached such level of refinement, and you had a feeling neither did Fury. 

"You like it?"

"You look… taller," You noted. That wasn't the only difference; his hair was longer, wilder, his shoulders wider, his arms far bigger than you recalled.

"You look exactly the same," he countered, as open as he had always been. "Just as beautiful as I remembered…"

You sighed, tiredly. You didn't have the energy for that — for his charm, his candidness. What was more, you weren't prepared at all. 

No, you weren't prepared for this Peter. Your Peter. Not after what all that Fury had told you…

"What do you want, Peter?"

He leveled you with a look, his whole demeanor changing in the blink of an eye. 

"I could ask you the exact same thing…"

"What do you mean?"

"Come on, Y/N. Don't play dumb with me, it doesn't suit you." His sudden bluntness surprised you, but it was more along the lines of what Fury had warned you to expect so it didn't completely manage to throw you off. 

You crossed your arms, "I have no idea what you're talking about." 

"Really, now?" Peter took a step forward, towering over you. "You don't? Hanging out at my spots, patrolling my neighbourhood, taking down my thugs?" He enumerated.

"Your thugs?"

"The kingpin is mine," he growled.

"Since when?"

"You fucking know since when!" You tried to hide your flinch at his rising tone, but he must have noticed because a moment later, he was closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, visibly trying to get a hold of himself. 

"I thought Queens was your neighbourhood…" You spoke, trying to diffuse the tension after a couple beats had passed without him moving.

"Yeah, well," he shrugged, opening his eyes, "I relocated."

"So did I…" 

"You did," he smiled. And just like that, he was back at being your Peter. "And you mean to tell me all of this." He pressed a button in his wrist, "isn't to get my attention?" 

A hologram version of Jade's video started to play in front of your impassive eyes. And you might have thought your carefully constructed mask of indifference gave away nothing, but Peter could see right through it. You didn't seem surprised to see the video and that alone was enough proof for him to confirm his theory. 

"Please, Smokey, security footage?" He smirked, "this isn't like you. You aren't this sloppy."

Another click and the video was gone.

"Well, this might come as a surprise to you, but everything isn't always about you." 

"Then what's going on?"

"None of your fucking business!"

Before you could react, the floor disappeared from under your feet, and your back hitted the wall with enough force to rattle the windows. 

"Like hell it isn't," Peter hissed, his weight pinning you upright. "Now tell me, what the fuck did you get yourself into this time?"

As you stared into his stormy eyes, heart racing inside your chest, unsure if the adrenaline coursing through your veins was because of the obvious threat in front of you, or for another reason entirely, you wondered exactly the same. 

Your tongue came out to moist your lips, Peter's dark pupils following the movement.

"It's been over a year," you breathed out, all the fight leaving you. It was too much, his sweet breath fanning over your face, every inch of his hard body pressed up against yours, overpowering you, the slick texture of his new suit against your bare chest… it was intoxicating. You had overestimated yourself. "Why do you even care?"

"I will always care about you," he confessed softly, just as affected by the closeness as you. "I will always want you…"

You closed your eyes, trying to get your erratic heart under control.

"Maybe I don't want you anymore, Peter." 

He pushed you harder against the wall, his forearm against your collarbone to prevent you from moving. 

"Don't do that," he whispered, lips ghosting over yours. "Don't torture me."

"Peter…"

BAM.

You fell to your knees, hard, Peter's body suddenly no longer supporting your weight. 

"Touch her again, and I'll kill you!"

"J-Jess?" 

"Hey, kid. You alright?" Your neighbour barely even spared you a glance over her shoulder as she placed herself between you and a newly irate looking Peter, slowly getting up from the rumble of splinters of wood and shards of glass that used to be your coffee table.

"What are you doing here?" You asked in confusion.

"I heard a noise," she deadpanned, eyes never leaving the dark cladded vigilante. But to your surprise Peter merely raised his hands in surrender, the bulk of his rage vanishing the moment he understood the woman in front of him was only trying to protect you. 

"This isn't what it looks like…" He tried to explain, but Jessica would have none of it.

"Yeah, sure" she scoffed. "Big guy, totally dressed, pinning a half naked girl to the wall in the dark... totally not rapey."

Peter flinched. She was right, he wouldn't believe himself either. 

"Listen, you're Jessica Jones, right?" Recognizing the woman in front of him, suddenly your choice in real state made a lot more sense. "I am- I was," he quickly corrected himself, "Peter Parker. Your friend, Matt Murdock, he knows me… look, I'm not- I'm not a bad guy." 

Even to his ears, he sounded unconvincing.

"Really?" Jess pointed at his black costume, "Cause you definitely look like a bad guy." 

"I… Y/n, help me out here," he threw you a pleading look but Jess moved to the side, blocking you from view.

"Hey, fuckface!" She snapped, drawing Peter's attention back to her, "the only reason I'm not kicking your ass right now is because of Matt. But if I ever see you next to Y/N ever again, I'll break every single bone of your body. Twice. Now get the fuck out of here, before I run out of fucking patience."

"Y/N?"

You sighed, getting up. Away from him, and with Jess there as a boofer between the both of you, you were no longer under the influence and could clearly see exactly how fucked up the situation was.

"I think you should leave, Peter." 

There was a flash of hurt in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a mask of indolence as he squared his jaw and turned away, letting the bio-suit close over his head again.

"I looked for her too, you know?" He admitted, before making his exit through the same window he had come in from.

You had no time to dwell on his words or anything of what had just happened, before Jess was on your face. 

"That was Peter? Your sister's boyfriend, the one you told me I didn't need to investigate?"

You resisted the urge to shrink under her look,

"Yeah…"

"You told me he was harmless. That did not look harmless!"

You couldn't really argue with that, so you didn't. Instead you gestured at her to be quiet, as you reached past her to pick up your phone, your landline phone, the one you had never bothered connecting. 

The one you knew was bugged.

With voice as clear and steady as you were able to manage, you spoke into the mic,

"Contact made. Awaiting further instructions." 

To be continued...

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker imagine #peter parker fanfiction #dark!peter parker #symbiote!peter parker #venom!peter parker #venom #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland x reader smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #cherry #arvin russell #nathan drake #marvel #jessica jones #defenders

[xseaxwitchxkpop]

Have Your Cake and Eat It, Too

Yeah, I had no other idea for a title, lmao. Anyway this is part one of a two or three part series. I wanted to break it up because some people want a lead up to smut and some people do not. So this is like a lead up and part two will be the actual smut and a lot longer than this one. Alrighty, enough of my rambling.

Part Two // Part Three

Disclaimer: Everything is consensual, contains mommy kink, fem!reader, dom!reader, dom!Yunho, sub!San, tall!reader, clear communication is always key

Requested: NO

Group: ATEEZ -- San, Yunho

Word Count: 1,637

******************************

You were laying in the bed, San cuddled up under your chin and head nestled in your breasts while you pet his head and played with the hair on the back of his neck. He let out a sigh of content as you two basked in the comfortable silence after a relatively light sex session of stress relieve. You and San were friends with benefits, this arrangement starting about four months ago when he expressed interest in wanting to be dominated by a woman and trusting you to put it into action. “Sweetheart?” you whisper quietly, continuing to pet his head. He met you with a hum and burrowed himself further into your breasts, tightening his grip around your midsection, finding comfort in the protruding tummy you hated, which always broke his heart. “Do you have any wishes for your birthday? It’s a month away and while I like to think I know you well, I want to know what you want,” you asked him, anticipating his typical answer that consisted of nonchalance.There was a beat of silence before he mumbled out, “Whatever you think is best, mommy.”

-----------------------------------

A couple of days later, you contacted Yunho, knowing that San was close with him and Yunho being one of like four of the members you have an actual friendship with; he also knows about your arrangement with San because San has a tendency to overshare when he’s delusionally tired. 

“Hey, Yunho, it’s Y/N. I need to know if San said anything to you about what he would want for his birthday...he hasn’t been direct with me. Call me when you have the time and are not within earshot of San.” You hung up after, hoping that when Yunho called you after the group’s practice session that he would have a definitive answer for you because you wanted to spoil San but weren’t sure how to go about doing that. 

You returned to eating your sandwich, trying to eat relatively fast but not choke as you only had 15 minutes left of lunch and with it getting close to rush hour, you might not even have five minutes left. 

---------------------------------------

A random TV show was playing on your TV and you were scrolling through social media on your cell when Yunho finally called you back around 7pm, and the conversation did not go to a place you anticipated at all.You pressed the green phone and put him on speaker as you turned off the TV. 

“Yah, Yunho. You have an answer for me?”The man on the other side of the phone call hesitated a moment before letting out a nervous chuckle. “I don’t want to suggest anything bad, or at least, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable and overstep any boundaries between you and me. But uh….hmm….there is something he mentioned to me quite a while ago.”

You cocked your eyebrow, nervous and yet incredibly curious to where exactly Yunho was going with his answer. “Go on,” you responded. You could already imagine the blush dusting his cheeks and his hand hiding his mouth, the usual for when he gets nervous about anything.

“Well, ah, Sannie and I...hmm…” He stopped, debating if he should go on or if he should stop, especially because he had no idea how you would react and didn’t want to ruin the good thing he had with you. He wasn’t romantically interested in you, but he definitely was interested sexually; the problem was that both you and him are dominants and that would not play out very well in the bedroom with just the two of you...unless…

Fuck it. “Sannie has told me a couple of times that he wanted to try a threesome sometime...with two dominants. And, hmm, him and I have fooled around a few times and considering that...I wanna propose that maybe we can give him that?” Yunho ended on an unsure note, hoping that you would not react with outrage or get mad at him or anything else.

Your side of the line stayed silent, processing what Yunho just told you. San wanted a threesome...you were a dominant and Yunho was an incredibly attractive man who also happened to be dominant, a problem you realized when you found out he was such because you wanted to fuck him, too. This really did offer the perfect solution for the both of you.

“Alright, if you’re proposing that you and I fuck San’s brains out in the way he wants, we can also have fun with each other. I’m down,” you managed to tell him nonchalantly. Yunho breathed a sigh of relief.

 “However,” you continued, in which he tensed up again, “I’m the one in charge, not you.” Yes, this was a jealous and competitive streak coming out, but you didn’t care. You also saw this as an opportunity to be a hard dom, something you don’t do often and part of the reason San went to you when he discovered his femdomme kink.

Yunho was intrigued by this part of the response and found it amusing. “How about I come over with food and we talk about it further before talking about it with San?” he asked, not being able to wait to make plans and discuss things because his puppy-like excitement wouldn’t let him. You laughed, adoring his impatience and agreed to him coming over with food. 

That night was an extensive discussion of how to talk about it to San and what kinks you two are open to what were hard nos. 

------------------------

About a week before his birthday is when you and Yunho agreed to talk to San about the whole ordeal. About two weeks went by and in those two weeks, both of you were giddy with anticipation, nervous with uncertainty, and both doing loads of research about threesomes since it would be everyone’s first time in an orgy. 

The day came and the plan was that Yunho was to bring San to your apartment and talk about it simply. However, you felt the need to include food as a comfort for both you and San as a way to ease any nerves that may arise. 

The boys came by later in the early evening after practice and after you got off of work. Each of you settled around your coffee table, dishes and soju sitting on the table, waiting to be touched. 

San looked at you and said, “Yunho said you wanted to talk to me about something and he wouldn’t tell me what; is everything okay?”

He looked at you with genuine concern and that hurt you a little but also annoyed you because Yunho was being his usual mischievous self. You looked at the male in question who smirked at you through his mouthful of black bean noodles, intentionally making you the one to start the conversation. 

You turned your attention back to the shorted male, eyes still fixated on you in concern. “No, Sannie, nothing is wrong,” you reply, giving him a minute to relax before continuing. “Yunho and I talked about what I should get you for your birthday and we agreed to actually team up for your present from us.”

“Y/N, if it’s expensive Yunho should pay for it...he has enough money to,” San said jokingly, a slight chuckle leaving his lips as he proceeded to stuff his mouth with the meat you bought just for him. 

A sigh left your lips before you forced yourself to answer, considering that Yunho was still doing everything in his power to not talk. You knew a part of this was because you demanded to be the one “in charge” and you hated how sneaky he could be.

So you decided to just bite the bullet. “No, San, I mean that Yunho and I want to have a threesome with you, if you’ll let us.”

The male stopped chewing for a moment, a little surprised by what you just said. He eyed you up and down, then turned his attention to Yunho and eyed him up and down, then turned back to you and hummed.

He finished chewing the food in his mouth, then swallowed, considering something for a moment. The room felt tense, but not in a bad way, holding its breath for San’s answer and contributing to your growing anxiety. The smaller male’s face split into a big smile, looking excitedly between you and Yunho. “You really want to?” he asked, hiding nothing about how he felt being asked this. 

However, that was not the reaction you and Yunho were anticipating, but it was the best that could happen.

Now it was Yunho’s turn to answer. “Yes, Sannie. We didn’t really know how else to ask and I know you mentioned it a couple times and I figured since you trust us, it seemed an obvious perfect gift and a perfect time to do it.” Yunho sheepishly scratched behind his head, looking at San with a mix of embarrassment and nervousness.

You were taken aback in a good way, and now that you had nothing to worry about in terms of acceptance or denial, you wanted to get to setting boundaries and laying out the kinks with San involved. Low and behold, you whipped out a small notebook and pen you had hidden behind a throw pillow just in case it did go well.

Yunho looked at you and cocked an eyebrow, an amused smile dancing on his lips. “I guess we talk about what that night should entail, then.” The three of you let out soft giggles and continued to eat and drink into the night, the boys leaving after the discussion and helping clean, and you, going to bed but getting hardly any sleep out of excitement.

#ateez #lemon hours #fem!reader #plussize!reader #tall!reader #dom!reader #sub!idol #sub!ateez #sub!san #dom!yunho

[luvteez]

bassists do it deeper

pairing: yunho x genderneutral!reader genre + tags: smut, band au | kink discovery, exhibitionism, a brief segment of semi-public sex, hand kink, size kink, yunho monster cock bc this deserves a tag, power play, switch dynamics (i think??), dom!yunho pulls through in the end, unprotected sex wc: 6.3k

note: big thanks to my fav babie @lustjoong​ for motivating me to combine the two ideas i had for the prompt into one and motivating me to finish this!! here’s my take on the unspoken obligatory yunho size kink fic every ateez smut writer should have written once but make him a bassist. also, the band au to this pwp is literally just there as an excuse to make yeosang the lead singer of the band bc if kq won’t give yeosang lines, i will 

A lot can happen throughout a single weekend, as your English professor suddenly quitting her job, your brother Yeosang almost burning down the kitchen from deep frying an egg, an influx of voicemails in your inbox all sent from Wooyoung, as well as Yeosang’s punk rock band losing a member. It’s a lot to process when all you’ve done is stay the night at Yuqi’s, even harder so when Wooyoung keeps repeating every five seconds that Seonghwa quit the band. (”Why did it have to be Seonghwa who left Stereowave? He was the hottest one!”)

That being said, you expected to come home to a beyond grumpy Yeosang who was trying to find a replacement asap. A band without a bassist sounds empty, and while Stereowave has garnered a big enough fanbase over the years that wouldn’t mind the band continuing as a trio, it just feels wrong. Besides, branding a group consisting of Yeosang the frontman, San the guitarist, Mingi the drummer, and nobody covering the bassist position a band doesn’t sit right.

You were prepared for the worst; a messy kitchen, Yeosang walking around in clothes he wore for five days straight, possibly the outbreak of World War III depending on how shitty he’s feeling. But instead, you find the kitchen exceptionally clean and Yeosang acting as if nothing ever happened.

“Can you help set up the camera? The guys and I wanna film a new song.”

“Uh, sure,” you answer irritatedly. “Shouldn’t you be more concerned about finding a replacement for Seonghwa though?”

“Oh, we already have a new bassist,” he waves off casually, “What are you gaping at? Shut that jaw of yours before flies fly into your nasty mouth.”

“First of all, rude.” Yeosang rolls his eyes at that comment. For a split second, you’re contemplating letting him figure out on his own how to use the camera because he’s the walking embodiment of a technology illiterate, but your curiosity about the new band member is bigger. “But how did you manage to find a new replacement so fast? It’s been like, what, a day since Seonghwa left?”

Yeosang sighs. “He’s been thinking of quitting for weeks now, so I had enough time to look for a new bassist. It’s not that big of a deal anyway.”

And this is exactly why you should never get dicked down by your bandmate several times in a month, you think to yourself. Seonghwa and Yeosang thought they were slick, but everyone figured they were more than friends. Needless to say, it was only a matter of time until the strain of their relationship wreaked havoc within the band.

“So,” you say as you two walk to the makeshift studio in the basement, “Is the new guy good? What’s his name?”

The change of topic makes Yeosang relax visibly. There’s a sheepish smile on his face and he replies, “You’ll see.”

You arch a brow. For some reason, that doesn’t settle comfortably in your gut. Then there’s the fact that Yeosang is slightly skipping, and that makes you more concerned than relieved. Because Yeosang barely skips, only when he’s being petty and is planning on pranking somebody. (Most of the time, it’s San.)

The faint vibrations of drums and guitars ring in your ears before you step a foot into the basement. Mingi is the first to acknowledge your presence, immediately dampening the cymbals before waving at you. That causes the other two guys to stop playing their instruments and turn their heads around. You greet San like you normally do, and when your eyes flit to the new addition, all brightness drops from your face.

“What. The. Fuck.”

Yunho cocks his head to the side almost tauntingly, eyes challenging. The corners of his mouth quirk upwards, though more with the intention of saying hah you thought you’d never see me again. “Hello to you too, honey. Looks like fate brought us together once more, eh?”

You blink multiple times to make sure your eyes aren’t deceiving you. To your dismay, they sure aren’t. It really is Yunho standing right next to an utterly confused San, and the bass in his hands just confirms it furthermore.

“Since when do you play an instrument?” you gawk. There’s no fucking way he could’ve had time to pick up music, not when his schedule was already jammed with basketball training and student council activities. Then again, that was his schedule in middle school.

“Since I was fifteen,” he drawls, unaffected by your outburst. “Any other questions, honey? Preferably something along the lines of how have you been? I expected a warmer welcome from you, not gonna lie.”

“What does Yeosang even see in you?” you splutter instead, disgust prevalent in your voice.

“Talent. Believe it or not.”

“Guys, no fighting,” Yeosang warns, but you’re too busy sending Yunho daggers and every pg rated curse under the sun your brain can wrack up.

Meanwhile, San shifts his weight on one leg awkwardly and asks in the background as your verbal dispute continues, “Are they exes or something?”

“Nah, just childhood enemies,” Mingi mumbles, clearly used to your interactions to the point where he’s becoming bored of it. He’s heard all the profanities too many times coming out from the same mouth, hence why he isn’t as disturbed as San is.

“Listen up, you piec—“ 

“(y/n), the camera. Help your older brother out, will ya?” Yeosang cuts you off urgently, the warning tone in his words hard to miss.

“Yeah, help your brother out, shorty,” Yunho snickers. Appalled by his blatant shamelessness, you scowl.

“I’m not that short—!”

“Still shorter than I am, shorty. Or do you prefer honey?”

World War III would’ve broken out right then and there if it weren’t for Yeosang’s death glare — you know, the look he has etched on his face whenever he means business and is willing to go so far and expose all of the nasty mishaps you’ve done in middle school, which is definitely something that should never see the light of day.

“I prefer neither,” you mutter after weighing the gravity of Yeosang’s wrath, avoiding any eyes before you set up the camera. Luckily, nobody further comments on that and eventually, everybody resumes practicing their parts of the songs.

Just in time as Mingi takes another short break to chug his water down, you stumble across a problem. “Uh, Yeosang? You should buy a new camera. This is still usable, but you might have to reset every ten minutes or so.”

A groan leaves him, followed by a shrill guitar riff, and you can see that he’d prefer death over spending money for a new one. “Can’t you just stay here during practice and reset it? You also get to hear some new tracks of the upcoming EP!” That fucker, he’s just too lazy to run forward and press a button every few minutes.

“I have to be on standby for the Block B ticket sale,” you lie. Technically, it’s not really a lie because you do plan on going to the Block B concert with Wooyoung, but 1) the ticket sale isn’t even today and 2) it’s always Wooyoung who buys the tickets. Yeosang doesn’t need to know that though. Any excuse is better than having to sit through practice and see if Yunho is as good as he claims.

Seems like Yeosang desperately doesn’t want to keep running back and forth to reset the camera as he suddenly says, “You can do it here too.” You would argue that the garage has its separate WiFi and only the band members have access to it, but then: “You can use my laptop instead.”

And letting you use his laptop is something he never does. You failed to submit an assignment in time because your own laptop broke down and he didn’t let you borrow his computer for even that.

“Fine,” you sigh in defeat. Yeosang thanks you with a smile so obnoxiously sweet it makes you gag. When all he gets in return from you is the middle finger, his demeanor drops and he mutters something inaudible under his breath, pointing to the small table at the side where all their phones and laptops are lying before he goes back to the others.

Once all four of them are in position and ready to play, you press the record button before flipping yourself onto the old patchwork couch Yeosang bought at a garage sale for only thirty quid a few years back. To your surprise, Yeosang’s MacBook is already unlocked, the default wallpaper of mountains and northern lights quite jarring to your eyes.

When given the rare chance to have unlimited access to your sibling’s devices, it’s self-explanatory what to do. You either a) go through all of their accounts and find as much dirt as possible about them that serves as good material for future blackmail purposes or b) sign them up to as many online subscriptions as possible that will make them go crazy. Unfortunately, that doesn’t work on Yeosang because 1) he doesn’t mind online subscriptions, and 2) he never checks his email account, hence why his inbox is filled with over 2000 mails, a third of them most likely unopened. On top of that, his MacBook is strictly meant for work, so if you really wanted to find out his most embarrassing secrets, your only shot is his phone.

That being said, you’re left with option c) which is checking out Block B’s concert merch since that’s the only sensible thing you can do right now. Forget productivity; that isn’t doable when Yeosang’s deep timbre is blaring in your ears along with the instruments. To be honest, you really enjoy Stereowave’s music and that’s on their music, not because your brother is the lead singer. You’ve enjoyed each of their performances and perhaps you’ve been indulging in the privilege of hearing their new songs first.

But now that Yunho’s involved, suddenly the prospect of having a new favorite band sounds tempting. What was Yuqi’s favorite band again? Day6? You should take a closer look at their discography.

As much as you want to mute the sound, from San’s riffs to Mingi’s drum solo, you fail to do so. One moment you’re opening the search browser, and in the next, your eyes are set on the group. They’re practicing like they usually do; fun etched on their faces as they lose themselves in the music. Yeosang is singing as if he was performing in front of a million viewers while San improvises a solo on a whim. Mingi messes up the beat for a split second after failing to catch his stick and somehow, your eyes have zoomed in on Yunho. It doesn’t take you five seconds to realize:

Yunho is good.

While he might not seem as fired up as the other three, he’s visibly relaxed. Just like Seonghwa, he plays smoothly and isn’t overpowered by the others, but he seems to have an easier time gliding his fingers across the fingerboard. The bassline is easy to filter out, not the generic pattern you can find in every second pop song, yet still compliments the other instruments.

He can play, fair game. However, that’s the least of your worries. You’re more attentive to the ratio of his hands to the bass. His hands are larger than Seonghwa’s by far, no doubt. That makes sense given his height, maybe an inch taller than Mingi. But Mingi doesn’t have that big hands. Doesn’t that mean that Yunho’s body is disproportional?

Before you know it, you drag your gaze from his shoes up to his legs and stop at his hands briefly, only to proceed upwards until you see the cocky smirk and amused eyes directed at you. All clogs in your brain come to a stillstand and despite that, that’s when you realize you’ve been 1) enjoying his music, 2) checking him out, and 3) checking him out and caught red-handed.

It feels as if you were living on the sun instead of on Earth as you burn up in embarrassment. Knowing there’s no way you can deflect what you just did, you quickly turn back to the laptop, the Google search bar staring back at you.

You’re about to type in something when the search history pops up, catching your eyes. A gasp leaves you but it goes under the music, everyone too immersed in their own thing to notice the prevalent horror settling on your face.

exhibitionism

getting off in public

best crowded places to have sex and get away with it

You blink, thinking that your sleep deprivation got the worst out of you and that you’ve finally reached the stage where you start hallucinating. Except, you know you’re not hallucinating. After going through the words again and again, you know that you’re really not fucking hallucinating and that your nonexistent sleep cycle isn’t as bad as Yuqi makes it out to be.

When you said you wanted to dig up dirt on your brother, you didn’t mean it in the form of his kinks. Money can’t buy everything, but how you wish it could so you could unsee that shocking discovery.

Since this is Yeosang’s work computer and he’s signed into his Google account, he must make use of the drive to save a copy of his ideas. It probably won’t amount to anything since he’s the walking embodiment of staying unbothered, but writing him a note on his docs about how he’s made your life worse by not clearing his search history is better than staying silent.

You click on the little icon on the top right corner, expecting to see Yeosang’s name right above the email address. But then you see Yunho’s name instead, and suddenly everything makes much more sense.

This was never Yeosang’s laptop to begin with.

To say you’re at a loss of words is an understatement. There’s no way someone could have as little self-awareness and leave their laptop unlocked, let alone Yunho out of all people. Then again, the last thing you expected from him was to play the bass and blend well with the rest of the band as if he’s always been the bassist of Stereowave and not the newly found replacement.

This is absolutely bonkers. But:

You could have fun with it. Maybe it’s for the better that money can’t buy everything.

Besides dozens of articles about semi-public sex and even a blogpost titled Shagging in Broad Daylight for Dummies, his search history of the last 24 hours consists of many forum links discussing the morality of exhibitionism, conspiracy theories, and hand care guides. You wheeze when you see the private playlist he saved on his YouTube account; a collection of videos about filing your nails properly and the best hand cream brands for dry skin.

Yeosang calls in for a break, and everyone’s grateful for it. San lets out a relieved noise as he places his guitar on the stand before catching the water bottle Mingi chucks at him.

“My arms are beat,” Mingi complains.

San sends him an incredulous look and snorts, “All you do is bang! crash! ppang! while my throat is fucked! And so are my legs!”

“Not my fault if you keep doing your high pitched oows! while jumping around like a— like a cricket!”

“A cricket? Are you serious?”

“I’m tired, okay!”

“Then that means we should call it a day and go home and rest, right?”

“Choi San, I think you’re onto something.”

“Absolutely not,” Yeosang deadpans, causing the bickering duo to pout in sync. “We have lots to do especially since Yunho’s now part of the band.” When all he’s met with is an attempt of cute puppy eyes that rather looks like a bad rendition of any horror movie featuring creepy dolls, Yeosang sighs, “I ordered chicken for dinner and yes, it’s on me.”

In an instant, Mingi and San’s faces brighten up and they’re celebrating as if they won a free cruise to the Bahamas. They don’t hesitate to envelop Yeosang in a bear hug, crushing the life out of him. A chuckle escapes you at the sight of your brother wringing for his sanity. Sometimes you wonder how on Earth those three guys are the same three guys who perform in abandoned warehouses, jamming out their punk rock songs while looking all edgy (in a cool way that has at least half of their fans thirsting after them).

Meanwhile, Yunho drops himself on the other end of the couch. Propping his right leg on the coffee table in front, he digs around in his pockets before pulling something out.

“Since when do you file your nails?” You pointedly raise a brow at him. Although your extensive research on his browser history already answered that question, you ask him just for the sake of it.

“Hand care is important, shorty,” Yunho replies, keeping his eyes trained on his fingers as he works the file around a nail. “If Kageyama Tobio files his nails, I can too. But enough with the small talk, what do you want?”

“I didn’t peg you as an exhibitionist.”

His hand stops moving. Yunho looks up at you, irritation written all over his features. “Because I file my nails...? A bold assumption, honey.”

There’s a reason why Yunho has always gotten away with pretty much everything. He’s a good actor who’s able to feign innocence at any time. His posture is relaxed, voice genuinely sounding flabbergasted that not even your shit-eating grin can throw him off guard.

You can’t, but your proof will do the job.

“I never said it’s because of your hand fixation.” You turn the laptop screen his way and once his eyes flicker on it and decipher the words, his face falls. Gone is the faux-confusion; as all color drains from him, his eyes look like they’re about to fall out of their sockets. “Is it really a bold assumption now, honey?”

Yunho inhales sharply when you scoot closer to him and put a firm hand on his left leg, his laptop now closed and long forgotten. Your fingers are placed too high for it to be friendly, skimming lightly on the inside of his thigh. Yeosang and the others are busy minding their own business but the chance of getting caught in the act is still there. The simple realization has adrenaline running a hundred miles an hour in your veins, and with the way Yunho clenches his jaw — a desperate attempt to fight the groan that’s threatening in the back of his throat — you’re not the only one who’s aroused by the setup.

Slowly, your hand inches closer to his growing bulge. Before you can dare yet another experimental squeeze, Yunho’s hand surges forward and holds your wrist in a vice grip.

“Don’t,” he snarls through gritted teeth, but it sounds sadder than it is intimidating when he’s sporting a boner right in front of your eyes.

You cock your head to the side, almost in a mocking demeanor. “You sure? Think about it, it’s a win-win situation. You get to live out your exhibitionist right here in front of your new bandmates, and I get the confirmation that you’re into it. But if you really don’t want to…” you try to retreat your hand but Yunho doesn’t let you budge, hand still enclosed around yours. That won’t do as an answer.

“Which one is it? Say it, Yunho,” you assert, narrowing your eyes. Yunho looks distraught, feverishly biting his lip while he’s internally fighting with himself, but he eventually chokes out a response.

“As long as nobody notices—”

“You either say you want me to touch you or not. I don’t want any roundabout stories.”

“Touch me,” he whispers defeatedly and the grip on your hand disappears completely. “But I swear to God if anyone realizes what you’re doing— hhnh—!” he cuts himself off with a low moan when you cup him over the material of his jeans.

“Yes yes, I get it. I don’t need Yeosang to know about this,” you dismiss. “And oh wow, you’re getting hard fast when I’m just touching you over your pants.”

“Just get to it.”

The snappish attitude causes you to stop dead in your tracks. “You think you’re in the position to tell me what to do? I can be mean too, y’know,” you start nonchalantly, a stark contrast to the way your heart is shaking in your ribcage. The power you suddenly hold is exhilarating. “I could just leave you like this, and then you’d have to try to cover your situation down there while practice goes on. How would the others react if they only knew your dick is hard? Probably won’t take them too long to find out since standing for a long time can be tiring, hm?”

Yunho’s head lolls back in response as he’s struggling to keep his eyes open. His breathing is uneven and the resulting moan that follows suit makes you smirk. You lightly smack the inside of his thigh, causing another wave of arousal to rupture in him. He chokes out a hushed ‘f-fuck’ and at this point, the constriction around his cock must be bordering painful.

“Who would’ve thought that the big bad Jeong Yunho is actually a submissive bitch who’s hungry for attention?” you ask gleefully, delivering another slap before stroking the area. “Who would’ve fucking thought you were a sub?”

“I-I’m not— shit, s-stop that, hngh— a fucking sub.”

“Yeah yeah, say that to yourself.” You rip your gaze away from Yunho’s flushed face to check if the coast is clear before targeting his fisted hands. He stiffens when you pry his hand open and bring three digits to your lips, sticking your tongue out to give kitten licks to his fingertips before pushing them into your mouth. You hum, suck, swirl your tongue around his fingers, giggling when all he does is stare at you wordlessly, unable to form any coherent thoughts. “See? Not even once have you put up a fight.”

That seems to snap him out of his daze. In an instant, his eyes darken and his jaw clenches.

“Oh honey, you know, you really shouldn’t tease me.”

You snicker, seeing through his bluff. “Wow, I’m so scared. What do you wanna do? Leave practice right now? Drag me to my room and pound me into the mattress?”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“You could never, sub.”

Whatever strands of self-control were still residing in Yunho have turned to dust by now. One moment he’s towering over you in full height, looking down on your sitting form in bitter distaste, and in the next, he’s dragging you out of the basement, unaffected by the sudden silence and Yeosang, Mingi and San’s confused expressions.

Once you’re in the living room, Yunho wastes no time crowding you against the wall and crashing his lips against yours. The kiss is a messy clash of teeth and tongues, but it leaves you hot and lightheaded and aching for more. Yunho knows no limits and snakes one arm around your waist to pull you closer to him, the other hand fisting your hair. He tugs harshly and the sharp sting sends all your nerves into a frenzy.

“Bedroom. Now.” The sudden huskiness in his tone catches you off guard and you wonder when his voice has ever sounded so rough. You moan into the kiss, fisting his shirt as you stumble your way to your bedroom.

Yunho pins you against the door once you’re in your bedroom. His lips are addictive, just like the groans he slips in kisses and his hands roaming your body. He gets rid of your clothes until you’re left in your underwear, then forces a knee between your legs to keep them from closing. Your eyes roll back at the friction, growing needier and hotter when he presses his thigh against you harder. 

When you finally pull away, his eyes are hooded and his lips are red and swollen. There’s no trace of inhibitions left in him as he watches you like a predator. With horror, you realize that the tables have turned, and when he easily locks both of your wrists above your head with one hand only, that’s when you know you’re undisputedly powerless against him.

“Who’s the sub now?” he pants, eyes sparkling with glee.

“Still y-you.” The response sounds pathetic to your own ears, but you have too big of an ego to admit it out loud. Yunho doesn’t buy it either if his quirked brow wasn’t telling enough.

“Still in denial, honey? I see. Guess I’ll have to do more then.” His free hand reaches down to tug on the waistband of your underwear, only to let it snap against your skin. The slight sting is enough to render your knees into mush and set fog into your vision. He does it again, and then he actually tugs the fabric down and you finally grab his motives.

“You’re bluffing— y-you wouldn’t put y-your fingers,” you ramble, hyperaware about how dangerously close his fingers are. Just when you think he’s about to shove a digit in, he pulls away completely.

“You know, you keep talking about my hands. It’s always my hands this, my hands that,” Yunho says casually, giving his nails a quick glance before meeting your eyes. “Rather than me having a hand fixation, it’s you who has a thing for hands. My hands specifically.”

You don’t like how every word is true. You don’t want to acknowledge that he’s correct. Verbally, because your body is moving on its own and has betrayed you long ago.

Yunho taps on your bottom lip and you comply reluctantly, letting him shove the same three fingers you sucked before. Mumbling unintelligible words under his breath, he watches intently as you hum around him, eyes fluttering shut when he slowly moves them in and out of your mouth. A whine escapes you when he pulls them out for good, soaked wet with your spit.

“Tell me.” Yunho grins, “Tell me what you like about them. Or else I’ll leave you hanging.” He’s not lying and you know it. The look he sends you is enough proof that he wouldn’t hesitate to leave you high and dry.

You don’t like how he’s stringing you on like a rag doll. You don’t like how he’s stripping you off your dignity step by step. Strangely enough, you feel yourself leaking and wanting nothing but his pretty long fingers inside of you.

“I like how they, agh I— I l-like how—” you stutter, losing all levels of rationality when he suddenly circles around your entrance. Yunho urges you to continue and it takes up all of your brainpower to pick up where you left off, “—they’re so long and big and pretty—”

“So you have a size kink.”

You stare at him in disbelief. Now that, that’s something he shouldn’t have deduced. “W-wha— I don’t!”

“Seems to me that you have one though. You kept stressing how big and bad and tall I was after all.” You stiffen. Did you? Did you really? You don’t recall saying it that many times but it's hard to think straight when Yunho still has your wrists above your head and is looking down at you in a downright patronizing way. It leaves you trembling pitifully, feeling called out and feeling so, so small.

He really wants you to hit your lowest peak because he doesn’t stop there. “Who’s the real sub here? Is it really me? Or is it you who likes feeling so short, small, tiny.” His smirk widens when your breath hitches ever so slightly. “I fucking knew it.”

“You don’t know shit,” you bark back, but to no avail. Your credibility has diminished the moment he caught up to your kinks.

“Say whatever you want but that won’t change the fact that you’re tiny baby,” he pauses, takes his bottom lip between his teeth as he’s giving you a thorough once-over and then enunciates the next syllables with such clarity that forces time to stop, “My tiny, helpless baby.”

The pet name breaks you. It’s the final trigger that takes all your inhibitions away and the pathetic size of an ego that was left in your stubborn head.

“Please,” your voice cracks but that’s the least of your worries. You can’t move, can’t talk back, and won’t get anything in return. Yunho is right in front of you, finding satisfaction in your internal destruction and yet, after all of the things he’s slaughtered you to, he won’t give you anything in return.

“Just a little bit more, baby. I’ll give you what you want if you repeat after me; I’m your—”

“I’m your tiny, helpless baby who desperately wants you to fuck me.” Yunho is mildly taken aback that you were still able to think and get it right before he even finished his sentence. “Now get on to it, Yunho. Please.”

You’re sniffling at this point, begging for any kind of stimulation that shoots you to the stars. You’re fucking sniffling, and that’s all it takes for Yunho to manhandle you on the bed. A gasp escapes you, not expecting this turn of events at all. It all happens in a flash and the next thing you know, you’re on all fours, face buried in the pillow.

“Yunho, I t-thought y-you’d fuck me,” you complain, glancing behind to see what’s taking him so long. Your mouth waters at the sight.

“Patience, baby,” he says as he’s unbuckling his belt, taking his sweet time. You rub your legs together to ease the tension, but you can’t really say you’re not enjoying the show. Yunho’s lean, slightly defined, and once he’s only left in his underwear, you swallow heavily. There’s a large, dark patch on the fabric and the bulge seems more prominent than before.

If your mouth was only watering, you’re drooling by now. Yunho takes off his boxers, revealing his painfully hard cock, tip red and oozing precum. Just like the rest of him, he’s abnormally huge.

You have two thoughts. One: Fuck, you want him. Now. Two:

“That’s never going to fit inside of me.”

“Oh it will,” he says with such confidence it gives you shivers. “I’ll pound you into the mattress and you’ll take it all.”

He grabs you by your thighs to pull you closer to him before positioning himself right behind you. “W-wait!” you cry, heart suddenly feeling heavy in your chest, “D-don’t just put it in without prep— o-oh, hnngh—” your body feels like jelly when Yunho presses two spit-coated fingers past your entrance, stretching you out with finesse.

“I’m not that heartless,” he chuckles amusedly, right at the same time he curls his digits right against your sweet spot, sending you headfirst into bliss. “You’re so small you wouldn’t be able to take an inch without prep.”

You only whine into the pillow, arching your back as he continues his ministrations. Once Yunho deems you stretched out enough, he retreats his fingers and replaces them immediately with his cock.

The difference is like night and day. It’s like his fingers didn’t amount to anything compared to this. The high-pitched cry that escapes you is loud as you grasp onto the pillow for dear life.

“How can you be so big?” you pant. There’s no way he’s past four inches deep inside of you. You’re far from being filled, but your walls are already clenching hard around him.

“Bassists do it deeper for a reason.” The innuendo is tacky but in your current headspace, it sounds like the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard. Yunho stills his hips, letting you get used to him. “How are you feeling?”

“Guh—” he chuckles at your inability to form coherent words, let alone thoughts. “So big.”

“You’ll get used to it, honey.” He leans forward to pet your hair. “Tell me when I can move,” he adds gently, and you swear you could melt right then.

It takes you a moment to get your breathing steady, and then he pushes more of his length inside. Whimpering, you writhe beneath him, feeling as if you’re being torn apart. Meanwhile, he’s breathing hard through his nose, trying his damn hardest to go as slow as possible. At a certain point, Yunho stops pressing for more and pulls out ever so slightly before rocking his hips back forward. It starts out slowly, but he gradually picks up the pace and you lose yourself into him.

“Faster,” you moan, bending your back for an even deeper angle. “Hnngh, so full. Want m-more.”

“You were right, you can’t take me to the hilt.” Yunho readjusts his grip on his hips and you know that bruises are going to last until the end of the week. “God, you’re so fucking small that you can’t take me to the fucking hilt.”

Your vision turns foggy once the meaning gets through you. Now that he’s saying it, how much of his cock is inside of you? Half of it? A third? He’s stretching you out so well, filling you up so impossibly deep and that wasn’t even his everything?

“That’s not— want more of you, all of you,” you stammer, not realizing what you’re even saying. “Baby wants all of you.” God, you’re so drunk and desperate for his cock that you can’t refer yourself in the first person anymore.

Yunho reacts just as perplexed, eyes widening. His hips still once more, and though you’d want to shout at him to keep on moving, you don’t find the energy to move your head, or even lift a finger.

“So fucking greedy,” he growls, pulling out of you completely. Not even a second later, he flips you around on your back so that you’re facing him dead in the eye, and then he pushes back in. The new position has you gurgling on broken words as your arms flail around for dear life.

Yunho throws a leg over his shoulder, creating a deeper angle. You don’t know if he’s actually giving you more if he’s managed to force more of him into you. All you register is the messy squelch of liquids and your moans bouncing off the walls. You can’t even see properly, everything a blur and a mix of different colors.

“I’m gonna cum,” you whimper, sensing your demise nearing closer and closer.

“Then cum,” Yunho orders in between groans, then adds in a louder voice, “You hear that baby? Cum and make a mess out of yourself.”

Your orgasm crashes onto you in a big singular wave as you tremble under his frame, walls clenching around him tightly. His name leaves your mouth like a mantra as you continue to convulse. Yunho pulls out moments later, just to spurt white on your abdomen. His face is flushed and beads of sweat are forming on his forehead while he jerks himself dry.

It’s a miracle that Yunho hasn’t toppled on you once he slowly comes down from his high. The fog in your vision clears up gradually, but your limbs are as good as worthless. You won’t be able to move freely for a good day or two.

As you continue to blink at the ceiling, only finding the energy to breathe, Yunho grabs the box of tissues from your nightstand and wipes himself off before doing the same to you. His touch is gentle unlike before, and you’d thank him if your vocal cords were still functioning.

You’re about to drift to sleep until he suddenly leans down and pecks your lips. In an instant, you narrow your eyes at him and ask, “What was that for?”

“You had some cum on your lip. I wanted to taste too.” Yunho smiles cheekily and runs his tongue against his bottom lip, then grimaces. “It tastes... yikes.”

He cleans you up in silence before plopping onto the bed right next to you. No words are exchanged up until you say, “Yeosang is going to kill you.”

“He can’t afford to kill me. He needs me for the band,” he muses.

“He’ll still kill you.”

“I appreciate the concern, honey.”

“Just scram back to practice.”

“Don’t you want to go to the bathroom first?”

“I can do it myself.”

“Oh really?”

“... Yunho, help me on my legs and then scram back to practice.”

Meanwhile, back in the basement, the guys are waiting for their bandmate to come back so they can finally finish practice and then eat chicken.

“You sure (y/n) and Yunho are only childhood enemies? They’ve been going at it like rabbits if he isn’t back here yet!” San exclaims, throwing his arms up for dramatic effect.

Mingi can’t counter that because San has a point, so he whips his head to Yeosang. “Dude, you sure they’re not in a relationship? They have to be at least fuckbuddies! Or fuckrivals? Fuckenemies? Or…”

“I do not know and I do not care,” Yeosang says blankly, looking like he’s about to bang his head against the wall because he sure won’t walk into your room and curse his eyes for the rest of his life. Damnit, all he wants is to practice and get the band together; their next gig is only a few weeks away. “In fact, I want to unsee what I just saw and unhear what you just said.”

#blame 5*os for the creation of the band au idea #ateez smut #yunho smut #jeong yunho smut #ateez hard hours #atz smut #luvsmut #the ending is rushed oopsie but i never know how to end smut scenes ahahaha

[kaito-is-baby]

The 6 stages of grief

Levi Ackerman x fem! Reader

Denial

I had an idea about Levi facing every stage of grief after losing Isabel and Farlan and he takes it out on the reader, one of the few survey corps soldiers that survives that expedition and Levi blames their death on her. She understands what he is going through and tries to help him get to acceptance. I will split this on 6 parts, one per each stage. This one is the second part .

Part 1 - Part 3

Denial

Heavy feets, heavy clothes soacked in blood, heavy eyes and heavy breathing. There was nothing about living that was not heavy and painful to Levi right now

He had lost his siblings on that expedition fighting for a cause they did not even believe in

Why? Why had he lost them?

His mind was empty, the only sounds he could hear were Isabel and Farlan's screams, their skin tearing apart by that titan hands and their bones being crushed between its teeth

Your voice tried to reach to him many times on the way back home but not even once he did pay attention to you

His eyes riveted on the wagon carrying the expedition's deads

His eyes were on what he could imagine were Farlan and Isabel bodies, or what that titan had left of them

His mind was so fixated on the corpses that he could not think, his brain was just silent, repeating the same scene all over again, his friends death and how he couldn't save them

He finally broke once he entered the common showers

On the underground showering with hundred of strangers would be quite intimidating

He remembered the very first time he and Farlan had to shower on the survey corps, they were vulnerable and uncomfortable, on their past life they would have been killed in that situation

He also remembered Isabel told him that you had managed to get the shower closed for 20 minutes just so she did not have to go through that feeling, he knew that the situation was for sure much worse for a girl and even more in Isabel case, she was alone, he and Farlan had each other at least

That little detail made him see you as someone quite likeable, you really helped and cared for Isabel, but it soon went away

As water tainted of red out of blood felt from Levi's body, his mind flew to every single memorie he had had with his now dead comrades, ignoring the fact that they were no longer there

He went to the dinner hall searching for his friends, his mind was not even trying to assimilate what had happened. As stupid as it sounds he did not realise that none of them were going to show up to the hall

You approached him, two different plates with food, you had prepared one for him too

"Here, I thought you would not want to think too much about what to eat or where, want to come to my squad table?" You said in the sweetest tone you could give him

He was not really an enjoyable company and you were not dying for him to eat with you but you understood how he felt, he was lonely now, if he had to think about where to sit he would have to process his siblings-like deaths and you knew he wasn't ready for that, no one was ever ready for that

But his mind was not with you right now, it wasn't on the dinner hall, it was in their old house, that horrible underground house where at least he had them

He did not answer you, heading towards his bedroom with an empty stomach

The moment his body touched the bed thoughts finally started to appear on his head

"Why? Why did I accept that mission. The underground was horrible but at least we were alive."

"Why? Why did I gave up and allowed them to go to that expedition, if I had been more stubborn they both would be alive"

"Why? Why did Erwin let us go with him knowing we were going to kill him, was he trying to get us killed by those monsters? Did he really wish for Isabel and Farlan's death?"

"Why? Why was I not able to save them?"

"Why did this happened? Maybe I deserved it, maybe every single bad thing I had done brought us there"

"But why was I the only one to survive? Isabel deserved life much more than I"

"It is my fault"

Every single one of those question ended up with "It is my fault"

The loud snorts of the idiots he had to share the room with and the knowledge that Farlan's bed was totally empty was not helping him

His mind growing meaner to him, blaming him more and more

Until a slight knock on the door woke him up from this nightmare

Not literally, he couldn't sleep, he had always had hard times sleeping and now? He knew he would never sleep again

With those very heavy feets and heavy eyes that did not abandon him since the loss of his friends he approached the door

And there you were, bothering him again, he was starting to hate you now, you had survived and Isabel and Farlan didn't, who gave you the rights to come and bother him every single time?

"I... thought you would like to have what Isabel left on our room"

His hate disappeared, his sadness disappeared, he could only think about how having Isabel things would bring her back to him

Both of you headed to the kitchen, you wouldn't bother anyone's sleep there

"I'm sorry if I woke you up, I couldn't sleep knowing Isabel was not on the other bed and I went to look at some of her things, I tought you would need it more than me" you were not lying... totally, you did all of that, you felt horrible after losing the girl and you could not sleep but you weren't sorry you woke him up, you knew how this worked he either couldn't sleep or was being haunted by nightmares

A slight grunt was the only answer Levi gave you

"I don't think she had wanted me to look through her things though so I didn't really touched anything, I think that's something she would have liked you to do" your voice barely reaching his ears as he found Isabel belongings

There were not many things, they did not have the money neither the time to buy unnecessary objects. Isabel did had a preferred shampoo she took with her to the survey corps, Levi remembered how he was the one who told her to buy something to clean herself apart from water, a small smile drawing on his lips as the memory crossed his mind

For him you were not there, neither was the kitchen, he was with Isabel trying to explain to her that some water won't make the dirt go away

"Levi, no one can afford the luxury of a clean hair here, don't be mean to the girl, just get her some shampoo"

They couldn't afford to lose their money in insignificant belongings and many of the underground would find shampoo as one of those but not Levi, he needed Isabel to be clean if she was going to live with them

He would give anything to be back there, to have them at his side again

But instead you were the one by his side today

And your voice brough him him back to his cruel and empty reality

"She told me that story about the bird you set free" your hands were holding a small piece of paper with a drawing of that little animal who made Farlan and him meet Isabel "I think I've never known someone who would risk their lives for a bird like she did"

"I did not know Isabel could draw like that"

"I... Isabel saw me sketching some of the new cadets training and once she told me the story about the bird we both thought it would be good to have something to remember that story"

Levi felt how his eyes darkened, he did not like how you were introducing yourself in his grief, you were not one of them, you were not someone Isabel trusted and you were not his friend, he did not want you, or anyone, to fill the void they left. No one could ever replace them

"Maybe I could do one for Isabel and Farlan so you can carry them with you always"

"I don't need anything like that" Levi grunted "and I don't need a new friend either so stop following me around everywhere, there is nothing to pity me about"

With that, Levi left and for the following days his hate towards himself and his blame started landing on to you

Every time he saw your face and your sweet gestures to try and make him survive through the situation it remembered him that it was real

You, your existence, proved that they were gone

He could no longer deny it

And his denial soon became hate and anger towards who he blamed their deaths on

His anger exploded on you and started to avoid you or mistreat you sometimes but deep down he was the one he blamed the most

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